


Like Real People Do

by Kuroitora_chan



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2020-02-27 09:28:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 105,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18736282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuroitora_chan/pseuds/Kuroitora_chan
Summary: Karkat finds a dead man in his yard.Is he actually dead, though?Inspired in the Davekat tribute "Like real people do".





	1. COVER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shout out to my friend ucantstopthefandom from Tumblr.  
> Your work is amazing.  
> Thank you for helping me through this bumpy but outrageously fun ride.

/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy some art, folks ;]


	2. Dave

I felt mostly cold.

I felt numb, too.

The dirt was everywhere around me, but through the blurriness of my eyesight the canopy of the trees made a pretty picture, if I didn’t dwell on the fact I was slowly dying.

It would have been ironic if it wasn’t just plain old sadistic.

Digging your own grave, I mean.

The son of a bitch didn’t even manage to conjure up the decency to properly kill me so that he could cover me in dirt.

There was not so much dirt, though. Just enough for me to start thinking that, after I was dead, the maggots would probably start eating me by the nasty wound I was sporting in my left thigh.

Maybe he was just waiting for the wound to actually kill me before he came back to bury me. Didn’t want me screaming my lungs out while he buried me alive. Or maybe he just didn’t kill me so he wouldn’t feel guilty for my death.  Or maybe just so people couldn’t blame him for it.

Other than the sound of wind in leaves and some birds chirping, all I could listen to in my deathbed was the pouring rain.

Looking at the canopies they were even more beautiful in the rain. I regret having only half the picture. My sunglasses were askew and I could only look at things from behind the lens that was still in place. The eye that wasn’t under the cover remained closed. Mostly from the swelling. Turns out that being backhanded by the blunt end of a Japanese Katana will not do wonders for your eyesight. Or your brain water. 

I was certain of my death when he showed up.

My Knight in shiny armor! Or rather a black leather jacket and jeans.

His hair was soaked and I could have sworn he was crying that day – although the rain didn’t help me confirm nor deny that.

He was typing away at his phone when he saw me. The scream that echoed from the depths of his core made every chirping bird fly away. I’ll give it to him, I was truly impressed.

The dude fell on his ass out of surprise of seeing me, sending the cellphone careening towards how-the-fuck-would-I-know? I was inside a hole, remember?

But now, there was someone. Someone had seen me. Something lit up on me.

A hope.

A hope that maybe, just maybe, if I was strong enough, I would live. 

So  I mouthed my prayer, hoping he would listen and not just bail on me.

“Help me” I told him with a barely-there voice.

He looked closer, and I kept saying the same thing.

The stranger’s eyes lit, like  realization  had dawned on them.  _ This dude’s alive! _  I imagine he must have thought. The expression that followed was a mix of horror with disgust. Can’t really blame him. I’ll admit that I wasn’t at my prime, even if I am extremely attractive in my day-to-day. 

He rose to his feet and started running the way he had come. I could listen to his feet breaking little twigs and crunching some not so soggy leaves – until I couldn’t.

I waited for what seemed like a long time. I found a person. I asked for help. I didn’t  wanna  die. But  time  seemed to stretch endlessly and he still hadn’t returned. The hope I had conjured from the depths of my beaten ass was becoming desperation. If he didn’t return soon, I would bleed to death in the grave I dug myself for myself.

Manly tears started to prickle my eyes.

_ Don’t leave me to die _  I thought pathetically while actually crying in the rain.

I wanted to live, but couldn’t conjure up the strength to fight for my life.

It was in the middle of cursing several events that I might have blew hard that the guy returned. He crawled to the edge of the grave and asked in a raspy voice

“Shit, shit, shit. Tell me you’re still alive,  you  useless sad meat sack ?  I can’t have a rando die in my fucking backyard”

That made me snort and at the sound of my constipated laugh his shoulders sagged as if by doing that  sound  I had just lifted the weight of the earth out of his back. Well, it would be weird to have a rando die in your backyard, so perhaps I did, in some sick and twisted way.

“Oh fuck. You’re crying. Why are you crying!? I just went to get some- Oh. You must have though I abandoned  you.  Holy shit, that was  assholish  of me. I’m taking you out  right  now. I brought some rope. Just hold this” he said while throwing me one end of the rope.

“Can’t move” I answered in a strangled voice.

“Shit! Okay. What to do, what to do- Aha!”

He grabbed the rope and vanished. Minutes later he returned with the rope tied to something I couldn’t see in one end. The other was tied around his thighs and waist, like a harness. He jumped down the hole and with gr eat  effort, put me in a sitting position. Then, he looked down and saw my leg.

“Oh for fucks sake” he said in a low tone.

The gash was ugly, can’t blame him for  exclaiming . He took off the jacket and made a tourniquet to stop or, at least, diminish the bleeding.

This dude was stronger than he looked. He picked me up and placed me on his left shoulder, but his handing ended up stretching the cut and I gave a scream. Oh yeah, pain is a thing. I was feeling loads of that before I got dumped into that 5’7 grave.

I curled up in the dude’s shoulder and tried to put my hand in the tourniquet, because the pain was coming from there.

“ Ohhhh . C’mon quit floundering around like a fucking magikarp”

Did he seriously make a  pokemón  reference? I’m starting to like this guy.

“Heh” I answer ed  truthfully  and monosilabically .

“Okay. This is all good news. You can flounder your ass around” he said giving my ass two taps. I’ll be honest, I was too tired to overthink the implications of such a meaningless gesture at the time “and your arms! That means that, for as fucked up as you might be, you’re nor para or tetraplegic. That’s wonderful news!” he says sarcastically. Maybe he’s just not used to having such a low bar for the definition of the word wonderful.

He crawls us out of the hole and rests his sholders after sitting me against a tree to then go untie the rope. That shit was a slippery slope because of the rain, I have no idea how we made it out, but man, if this dude  aint  my fucking hero. I would give him the manliest hug ever and probs even cry a tiny manly tear and shower him with manly praise if I wasn’t so constipated and broken. And probably sick too. If I don’t die because of the hemorrhage I have a very good chance of dying because of either pneumonia or an infection. I could even get the lucky number and get both.

With the rope in one of his shoulders he knells in front of me.

“Can you even say your own name? My name’s Karkat.”

My eyes feel heavy. So heavy. My glasses are still weird in my face. Uncomfortable. He takes them off. If I was in my  prime  I would hold his hand and say something shady and self-confident like “no one touches the shades” but I couldn’t even keep my hands up properly to assess my gnash inducing wound. I was in a pretty pathetic state. 

Closing my  eyes  I realized he was still waiting for an answer.  So  I mouthed my name.

“Dave”

“Okay. Dave, you have a shitty as fuck wound in your leg in case you didn’t notice” he started off sarcastic, but I could hear the implied worry “so you don’t get a say when I say that I’m taking you to the Hospital”

I shook my head. No Hospitals. If I went to a Hospital, he could find me. He would find me. And then I'd be dead for good. Maybe worse. Maybe he would come for  him  as well. The guy took me out of a trench, I couldn’t put his neck on the guillotine. Or worse – in the end of the sword.

“I said you don’t get a say”  he retorted  abrasively .

The dude picked me up bridal stile and I was just so tired of trying anything I didn’t even squirm. My head was lolling out of his grip and I felt a sting on my lower lip when a raindrop fell right on the c ut  my lip had. I pulled my head forward  in and wince of pain  and placed it between his chest and arm , licking my wound like a beaten-up underdog .  But after some time I just drifted into sleep. 

I’ll be the first to admit that being saved by a random guy in the middle of some  sickass  dense woods that could totally be housing some psycho murderer instead of a nice guy was as lucky as I was ever going to get. Who knows? There is a chance that whatever Hospital he was taking me wouldn’t ask for my info. They could just register me as a John Doe. 

“Hey, Dave, what’s your last name?”

“Strider, yo”

SHIT.

Yeah. No chance on being registered as Dave Doe now. It’d be a slick alliteration, though.  Aaaaaand  my ribs are killing me, because I actually made and effort to say that out loud and not just mouthed  or  implied as I was doing before.

“That was the loudest thing you have told me so far. Why is you last name the thing you make an effort to say?” 

He sounds ornery all the time. And sarcastic most of it. His eyebrows are permanently drawn down, giving him a perpetual moody look. Strong features. Expressive features. I, for one, would never be able to pull off the I-hate-and-always-will-hate-the-world-and-everyone-in-it look. I’m more of a poker-face  kinda  guy, although now that I think about it, my shades were 90% of the look. They are a brand at this point and the fact that they got busted along with the rest of me... 

Makes me really sad.

He really did disown me.

He really did want me to die.

“Hey, stop scrunching your face. You look like a homeless zombie who just took a whiff of his own ass. And answer me, for fucks sake”

I stop emoting, although when I do my face hurts even more. Staying relaxed after so much time being tense  takes things out of their inertia, and that hurts. I shrug. I don’t really know why the fuck I did that. Should I even keep that name after all this debacle?

“Who did this to you? You look like you were fighting a fucking ninja! There was a black and unsheathed Katana in one of the ends of the grave. Why the fuck  were  you in a grave if you were alive?”

I wasn’t going to go spilling my beans to some stranger – even if he did take me out of the grave – so I just kept quiet and closed my good eye. The sounds of the clashing swords still rang in my ears and my jaw clenched in  reflex.

“I said stop frowning! Are you deaf or just dumb?”

Well, that’s golden coming from someone who has their face in a perma-frown. I just laugh breathy and low at how absurd this guy is being right now.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m always frowning, but I'm not a hurt asshole who was dying in a random ditch in  someones  backyard, so fuck off. By which I mean stop  being so difficult and quit frowning. You’re only going to get yourself more hurt.”

We arrive at the dude’s house and he places me in the passenger sit of his car.

And then he takes me to the fucking hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I intend on making this a long fic or even commiting to it. I just had this idea and wrote so as to not let it slip away completely.


	3. Karkat

Dave fucking Strider was dying in a ditch that had been dug in my fucking backyard. Yes. I had his name after only asking once. Get off my case. I had to register the fucker in the Hospital. I HAD to know his name. Son of a bitch passed out after I placed him in the car which meant I had to carry his ass inside like he was my fucking bride or something, because of it. Not that he was heavy or that I’m weak – I can carry another human being just fine, fuck you – but no one likes to exert themselves, and if you do, you’re a freak, a lunatic or a crossfitter, which could put you in the lun-y bunch now that I rethink it. 

Anyway. There was this sluggish attendant that was asking me the info. I could have sworn the surgery would be over until I finished answering the sheet. 

“Give me that” 

I told her, grabbing the paper with the questions and filling it in myself. Nobody has the time for this much bullshit, lady. Mostly not me. I’m a man in a mission. 

“There. Where is the surgery happening?” 

I asked while giving her the paper back. 

“Third floor” she answered apathetically. 

I waited in the third floor for, like’, five hours, until someone dignified themselves to come and tell me the blond asshole I brought was fine. Finally!  

“Can I go see him?” 

“He’s under heavy sedation and will stay asleep for a while” 

“Well, letting him wake up alone after a surgery that demanded heavy sedation looks assholish, don’t you think?” 

The doctor laughed and the old lady that was sitting close gave me a look like I had just took a dump on an ice cream cone and gave it to her saying it was chocolate flavored. Go mind your own business, lady. And don’t laugh at my very serious argument, Doc. That’s a dick move. 

“Indeed. Go see him, but don’t touch him. If anything starts going south, go find a nurse” 

I nod and run to the front of the room. 

When there, I open the front door slowly, so not to chance waking him up. 

Shouldn’t have worried. He’s sleeping so fucking deep I could put and image of a porn star and the subtitles “that’s so fucking deep” making  _that_  kind of face for an audience and use that to illustrate how deep this guy was sleeping. So, I close the door without worrying about making noise and take a seat beside the bed. 

He hasn’t told me anything other than his name at this point, but from what I can gather, he’s either being followed by someone that wants him dead, or he is after someone himself and the murder attempt went south. As someone who’s been at the end of both spectrums it’s really hard to pinpoint which side of the spectrum he is, because there are both wounds of mistakes of trying advances against someone as much as there are wounds of dodging mistakes. 

I just wish shady things would stop happening in my fucking backyard. 

It’s big, spacious and looks like a forest, but there IS a fucking fence around the property! Why in hell can’t dumb assholes just keep their bullshit to themselves? If I wanted to make my backyard into a graveyard I’d be making mad money about it, but it’s just not the case! 

Sigh. 

Why the fuck am I the one to be surrounded by the damned?  

This is the third fucker that pops up. 

First, it was Jade, with a bullet allocated in her ribs. 

Then, it was Sollux, blinded. 

And before this fucker, it was Terezi, with a gushing fucking shoulder. 

All this is so fucking weird. They all came to me. They were wounded, scared, sometimes being persecuted and they came to my house hoping to get my help, like I could help them. 

Did I help them? Can I even help him? 

Dave stood silent in a hospital bed, completely sedated. His eye was considerably less swollen and even in a hospital gown, the big patch on his side could be seen. I caught myself staring and fidgeting mindlessly, picking at the sides of my fingers with my nails, but when I realized, I stopped myself, my digressions placated over the beeping sound that the heart monitor made. 

He scared me shitless when both his eyes shot open. They were red and attentive and probably moving on adrenaline alone. The stupid asshole immediately tried to sit but wailed like a wounded animal, going to lay back down. 

“What the fuck” he said closing his recently patched eye. 

“Don’t try to sit! Are you dumb? You’re wounded!” 

“Where the fuck is this? Is this a hospital?” his open eye darted across the room at top speed. 

“You’re in a hospital bed, with a hospital gown, with needles in your arms. Nooo. You’re in a fucking homecoming episode of a coming of age movie. OF COURSE YOU’RE IN THE HOSPITAL! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” 

His pupils dilated a lot and he started falling backwards. Out of pure reflex I stood and got him by the head and upper back, placing him back in the bed. He looked around the room, utterly lost, like he was seeing something I couldn’t. In hushed and delusional tones, he started to speak. 

“Leave – I – You – Leave now.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Safe - Not safe” 

“It’s safe” I said with way more conviction in my voice then I really had “you’re safe, dude” 

“He’s gonna be here” he said holding me close. His breath smelled like Doritos and FUCK, that cheesy smell STANK “he might already be” his voice grew smaller. The medicine probably taking tool of his body yet again. 

When he released me, his whole body went slack into the mattress, and I had to rearrange him so he wouldn’t hurt himself. The words of the doctor returned after all that shit went down, and I wasn’t really sure If I had taken the right or the wrong path to address this fucker.  

He was obviously broken, but after being beaten into a pulp and left to die in a ditch, who the fuck wouldn’t be? 

To make matters even better, I was also very certain he wouldn’t have a place to crash if his intention was to live. He could stay a couple days in the hospital but, after that, the possibility of him having to take refuge in some place was high.  

Refuge. It’s freaky how many people have thought about me as some type of refuge. Physical or mental – most times, both. 

Until now, my thoughts got the best of me, but this wasn’t the only pickle I had in my hands. He seemed like he would stay unconscious – at least for a while – and that gave me time to contemplate my options about my other problems. 

More specifically, Terezi. 

\-- carcinoGeneticist[CG] began pestering gallowsCallibrator [GC] \-- 

CG: IM BACK 

GC: OH. F1N4LY! 

CG: FUCK OFF. I DIDN’'T TAKE THAT LONG! 

GC: TO M3 1T JUST S33M3D LIK3 YOU W3R3 RUNNING FROM OUR CONV3RS4T1ON, K4RKL3S. 

CG: I WANT TO SEE YOU CORROBORATE THAT ARGUMENT WHEN YOU HEAR THE ASTOUNDING NEWS I HAVE TO DROP ON YOUR VERY CAPABLE EARS 

GC: 1S TH4T 4 PL4Y ON MY D1S4B1L1TY, K4RK4T? 1 WOULD HAV3 3XP3CT3D TH4T FROM 4NYON3 BUT YOU! >:C 

CG: SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO THIS. 

CG: THERE WAS YET ANOTHER FUCKING BODYDROP ON MY BACKYARD! 

GC: >:O  

CG: AND THAT’S NOT ALL! 

CG: THE FUCKER WAS DYING FROM A BLEEDING WOUND IN HIS THIGH. PROBABLY MADE BY A JAPANESE FUCKING KATANA. 

CG: WHO *THE FUCK* WOULD USE A KATANA TO TRY AND KILL ANOTHER HUMAN BEING WHEN FUCKING GUNS EXIST, TEREZI??? 

CG: THIS IS OFF THE CHARTS LEVELS OF HORSESHIT! AND WORSE, *IT KEEPS HAPPENING ON MY BACKYARD!*

CG: WHY DOES IT HAPPEN ON MY BACKYARD?! HUH??? 

GC: 1 H4V3 TOLD YOU, T1M3 4ND T1M3 4G41N, TO PUT SOM3 S3CUR1TY M3SUR3S 1N YOUR HOUS3. YOU 4R3 GO1NG TO G3T 4TT4CK3D SOM3 D4Y. BUT DON’T WORRY! FOR 1 SH4LL F1ND YOUR MURD3R3R 4ND D3LIV3R H1M TO TH3 G4LLOWS! 

CG: YOU JUST FUCKING IGNORED THE FACT THAT, IF I DID BECAME A VICTIM OF SOME HEINOUS CRIME, NO MATTER WHAT THE FUCKER DID, HE WOULD GO TO A TRIAL FIRST. YOU’RE STUDING LAW, FOR FUCK-SAKE. 

GC: Y34H, BUT TR14LS 4R3 ONLY P4RT OF TH3 FUN, K4RKL3S >:] 

GC: TH3 OTH3R P4RT 

GC: 4ND TH3 MOST S4TISFY1NG 1N MY OP1N1ON 

GC: 1S TO W4TCH’3M CHOK3 ON TH31R OWN MYST4K3S 

GC: H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4 

CG: … 

CG: YOU’RE CRAZY 

Terezi answered to that with yet more cackles, unsurprisingly. 

GC: WH3R3 4R3 YOU R1GHT NOW?

CG: LOWAS HOSPITAL AND MATERNITY 

CG: AND I DOUBT ILL BE LEAVING ANY TIME SOON 

GC: WH41T. YOU S4V3D TH3 GUY? 

CG: OBVIOUSLY! I COULDN’T JUST LET A RANDO DIE IN MY FUCKING BACKYARD! 

GC: K4RKL3S, WHY? YOU’R3 GO1NG TO G3T YOUS3LF 1N TROUBL3 4ND NOTH1NG 3LSE! WH4T 1F P3OPL3 ST4RT 4SK1NG QU3ST1ONS?  

GC: HOW DO YOU 3V3N KNOW YOU D1DN’T S4V3 SOM3 MOB CR1M3 BOSS WHOS GOT 3 GOONS 4ND 4 H4TR3D FOR CLOCKS SO 1NH3R3NT TO H1M TH4T H3’LL BR34K YOUR PHON3 1F YOU LOOK 4T 1T TO CH3CK TH3 T1M3? 

CG: WHY THE WEIRDLY SPECIFIC DESCRIPTION? DOES HE HAVE A PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION YOU CAN GIVE TOO? 

GC: JUST TH4T H3 SM3LLS L1K3 L1COR1C3. WH1CH M34NS H3’S PROB4BLY BLACK >:? 

CG: YEAH, NO. HAVEN’T SEEN SOMEONE WHO SMELLS LIKE LICORICE AND IS A KINGPIN MOB BOSS RECENTLY. 

CG: JUST THIS FUCKED UP DUDE 

CG: THAT WAS DYING 

CG: AND I TOOK HIM TO THE HOSPITAL 

CG: BECAUSE HE WAS DYING 

GC: OK4Y! 

GC: H3 W4S DY1ING, 1 G3T 1T. 

GC: DO YOU 3V3N KNOW H1S N4ME? 

That’s pretty much the only thing I know about him, but now, thinking back on his scared face, I wonder if I should go and tell that around. Maybe he is being persecuted. The less people know him, the more he can go under the radar and, hopefully, sooner he can be out of my hair. 

CG: I REGISTERED HIM AS JOHN DOE. HE WAS UNCONCIOUS WHEN I FOUND HIM. SO GIMME A BREAK WITH THE FUCKING INTERROGATIONS. 

GC: K4RK4T...4R3 YOU...LY1NG TO M3? 

Wha- How the fuck could she know that? 

CG: WHAT? NO. WHY WOULD I EVEN DO THAT? THERE’S NO LOGICAL REASON FOR ME TO DO THAT! WHY WOULD YOU EVER THINK I DID THAT OUT OF THE BLUE LIKE THIS? 

GC: W3LL. FOR ON3, 3V3RYTH1NG SOUNDS 3XCEPT1ON4LLY SH4DY. YOU FOUND SOM3 R4NDO 1N YOUR B4CKY4RD WHO W4S DY1NG WH1TH 4 TH1GH WOUND 4ND DO3SN’T 3V3N M4N4G3 TO 4SK H1S N4M3? 

GC: YOU T4K3 S41D STR4NG3R TO TH3 HOSP1T4L 4ND 4R3 CURR3NTLY WH41T1NG FOR H1M TO W4K3 UP. 

CG: I KNOW WHERE MOST OF HIS WOUNDS ARE, IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL ANY BETTER. EVEN IF I WOULD HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHY YOU WOULD FEEL BETTER OR WORSE BY KNOWING THAT I KNOW SOMETHING MORE THAN THAT. 

CG: I DO INTEND ON QUESTIONING HIM ON THINGS WHENEVER HE WAKES UP.  

GC: OHHHH. 

CG: IT’S DEFINETLY NOT LIKE WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU’RE THINKING. YOUR QUESTIONING METHODS ARE SHADY TO SAY THE LEAST AND CRIMINAL TO SPEAK CLEAR ENGLISH.  

GC: YOU US3D TO L1K3 TO W4TCH M3 WORK 

CG: YEAH. WHEN YOUR WORK DIDN’T INVOLVE TAKING PEOPLES FUCKING NAILS OFF! 

GC: TH4T W4S JUST SOM3TH1NG VR1SK4 TOLD YOU TO M4K3 YOU NOT SHOW UP ON3 D4Y. 

CG: AND YET YOU WON’T TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED. 

GC: B3C4US3 YOU DON’T N33D NOR W4NT TO KNOW! 

CG: YOU KNOW WHAT. YOU’RE RIGHT. I DON’T WANT TO KNOW. BUT LISTEN TO THIS 

CG: WHATEVER YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, TZ, GET TWO THINGS INTO THAT THICK HEAD OF YOURS 

CG: FIRST AND MOST IMPORTANT IS THAT I CARE ABOUT YOU AND I KNOW YOURE GETTING YOURSELF INTO TROUBLE, BECAUSE THAT TIME YOU SHOWED UP IN MY HOUSE AND DIDN’T TELL ME THE TRUTH ABOUT HOW THE FUCK YOU GOT THAT NASTY WOUND STILL HAUNTS MY NIGHTMARES, YOU INCONSIDERATE FUCKALL 

CG: THE SECOND THING IS THAT THE 8 BALL BITCH IS USING YOU, BLATANTLY, BECAUSE SHE CAN BE SKIVVY AND EVEN I, IN ALL MY BIG-PICTURE-BLINDNESS CAN SEE THAT! 

GC: M4K1NG JOK3S 4BOUT TH3 BL1ND G1RL 4G41N, K4RKL3S?>:’[ 

CG: I MEAN IT, TZ! GET REAL! 

GC: 1 KNOW WH4T 1’M G3TT1NG MYS3LF 4T >:] 

GC: SH3 1S RUTH3L3SS 4ND CUNN1NG, BUT 1M PROB4BLY TH3 ONLY ON3 WHO C4N D34L W1TH VR1SK4’S BULLSH1T. 4ND 1 N33D H3R STR33T S4VO1R3 F41R3 TO G3T TO TH3 BOTTOM OF MY S34RCH 

GC: 4LSO, SH3’S MOR3 TRUST WORTHY TH4N SH3 L3TS ON. 

CG: I JUST HOPE YOU FUCKING KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND WATCH YOUR BACK. 

GC: M3 TOO, K4RKL3S. 4ND R1GHT B4CK TO YOU. YOU S33M L1KE YOU’R3 GO1NG TO G3T 1N SOM3 TROUBL3 YOURS3LF. 

\-- gallowsCallibrator [GC] ceased  pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] -- 

What does she mean by that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I decided to post chapter 2. I have an idea.   
> Next chapter I'm going to make'em boys interact properly.  
> Be warned that not even I know what conclusions they're gonna get at.  
> What do you guys think is Terezi's little project with Vriska about?
> 
> Also: Pester-fucking-logs. They are hard to code. Fucking finger cramps. But they look so good :')


	4. Dave

The regularity of the beeping sound woke me up in the midst of my nightmare. 

I was already dead as a dodo and buried deep – six or seven feet under – in a place no light could reach. But I wasn’t dead, no. I was alive and awoken into complete darkness. 

I’ve never been one to be a phobic little fag. Afraid of the dark or similar shit. 

But try being buried alive in a place in which, no matter how much you scream, no one can hear you. 

That shit will turn you claustrophobic faster than the flicker of a switch. Faster than yo’ mama can flick a pancake. Faster than Houdini can get out of cuffs. Faster than fucking Barry Allen in his first time with his lifelong crush. 

Okay, that last one got a bit derailed. Anyway, you get my drift. 

In the dream, I started suffocating. The beeping seemed like how much time I had left of oxygen in that place. The harder I breathed, the less I had in store. The louder I pleaded for help, the less I had in store. So I started choking, and the beeping went up really fast. 

I was running out of time. 

Then I took a slap to the side of my face that wasn’t bruised and drove in a big, hard and satisfying lungful of air – because I woke the fuck up. 

“Breathe” said the guy with the curly and disheveled hair – more as an order than as an instruction. 

Even then I got myself breathing alongside him. 

Sitting and looking at his face, the memories returned. He saved my ass from certain death and was waiting for me to wake up?  

I took a look around after steadying. 

Heh. This is pretty ironic. For as many bruises as I have around, can’t remember for the life of me when was the last time I was taken to a hospital. Everything looks so neat and clean. Very different from my room – I guarantee. 

I remember the guy, but, not his name. 

“Dave, are you okay? Do you want me to call a nurse?” 

“No!” I said shamefully hoarse. 

So, smoothly, like a man about to start a conference, I cleared my throat. 

“No, I’m fine. Look, dude, we can’t stay here. I appreciate everything you did – getting me out of that trench, bringing me to a sweet-ass hospital, getting my wounds all patched up n’ shit, but we oughta leave, like’ right the fuck now” 

“Are you crazy??” he retorted loudly and befuddled with my demand “You’re on at least 2 different types of intra-vein-y medicine! If we take you out it’s gonna be like letting you heal half the damage! And then I would have to bring you over *again*” 

“Better to heal half and keep the half you healed, healed, then heal all and have everything thrown to the dogs again” 

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” 

“Look, I can’t give you the details for your own safety-” and hey, it was true “but what you need to know is that someone threw me in that hole. That person wanted me dead. And whenever they go back and realize my amazing bod is not bleeding to death in that ditch, they’re gonna hunt me to finish the job” 

“Now tell me something I couldn’t conclude on my own, dick weasel” he said while placing his hand in my chest and pushing me down. The dude was also making a face like someone gave him a lemon to suck on. I held his wrist as a for of insistence. 

“If this guy knows you’re helping me, he’s definitely going to target you too” 

The guy sighs loudly “Do you even know *who* is trying to kill you?” 

“That-” is a sore subject? Is none of your business? Is nothing you should worry about? - no, that one’s just dumb - “would be my brother” I settled for. He should know who to run from, at least. 

The guy goes to sit back in the chair right beside the bed, taking his phone back in hand. I sit, but my vision swims a little, so a close my eyes. Where are my –  

Shades. They’re broken. Oh yeah. 

Well, fuck my Bro. I got those from John and I’m going to get them fixed. First thing after I’m out of here. They are my esthetic and if he has a problem with that, he can go suck on a greasy bike handlebar – because dicks are too good for him and that would imply he could give a shit about someone else’s pleasure. He can’t give a shit if I’ve been fed, which is much more basic, how could he give a shit about something complex as pleasure? 

Not that I would know what a dick tastes like. 

That got derailed again. Where was I? Oh yeah. My shades. 

The dude doesn’t look up from typing away on his phone to say “If your head is spinning why don’t you try – oh, I don’t know – lying down on the fucking mattress???” 

“It’s just that my eyes aren’t used to environments that have this much light” 

“Strider, if this place was anymore dimly lit, people would think we were engaging in intercourse” 

“Dude, no” 

“I’m just saying” 

“Dude, so much nope” 

“This is such a pedantic argument. Look, here’s what’s left of your glasses.” 

The guy took his bangs out of his eyes and reached inside his backpack to grab my shades. He delivered them folded, but one of the legs went missing along one of the lenses. I took them from him like I was cradling a newborn puppy. I ran a finger over the ridges and my jaw constricted so hard I think I heard my teeth break a bit with the pressure. 

I constricted my whole body – including my thigh – which made a volt of pain course through my thigh, knee, and up to my hips and back. I jerked backwards towards the bed, arching my back and hissing with pain. 

To that, he stood up and took his face out of his phone, looking at me and, I imagine, checking to make sure I didn’t need a doctor or a nurse. 

“See? This is why I told you to rest!” can’t this guy do anything but complain? 

While I was distracted trying to will the pain away, he took my shades from my hands. My arm that wasn’t pierced by a needle stretched to try and grab them back. 

“C’mon, man, uncool! Give me my baby back.” 

“I’ll give you this garbage eye-wear back when two conditions are met, prick: first and foremost, you have to be completely healed by medical standards, which means you’re staying until the end of the recovery process” 

“That’s bullshit! You know I can’t stay-” 

“SECOND: you have to say my name” 

“Wha-?” 

SHIT shit shit shit. He told me and I can’t remember! 

“You can’t expect that from someone who went into heavily sedated surgery, man” 

“So you don’t deny you forgot it” 

“Nah, man. I totally know your name” 

“Say my name. C’mon. I DARE you.” 

Was it with C? I remember something with that sound... 

“Ca....rlos?” 

“Really? That’s the best you can do?” 

“Uuh..Curlos?” 

“Closer. I actually know a Kurloz, but no, still wrong, douchebag.” 

“Krivos” I tell him with a little more certainty. 

“Oh, now you’re just making up words. Fuck you.” 

“I don’t remember, man! I’m sorry, okay? But you can’t just go and take my baby because I can’t remember your name.” 

“Yes. I can. Watch me.” 

So I did.  

From the backpack he fished a gray case made specifically to transport glasses. He opened it, placed a tiny towel around the lenses and closed. Then he placed all that back in the depths of his backpack. 

After seeing that, I wasn’t so sure I wanted it back. I would just have held it and placed my fingerprints all over the lenses until I deemed someone worthy of fixing them. 

“Do you wear glasses?” I asked him. 

He gave me a look with a tilted brow “No.” 

“Then why do you have a case like that?” 

The guy just gave me a shrug “I just do. Don’t ask hard questions. Just be glad I’m willing to use it with what’s left of this ugly thing you call sunglasses” 

“I actually call it shades” 

“No one gives a shit” he barked back. 

“But, now, seriously, I can’t stay” 

“This your brother?”  

The dude took his phone and showed me a really bright fucking screen – that shit was so bright I had to squint to be able to look at it. He was on my Facebook and showed me a selfie I took with Bro, way back when – him and I were making Jojo poses in a Seven Eleven close to where we lived. I don’t even remember why we took those photos. I think it was something for a school project but who the fuck knows? 

“Yeah. That’s him” 

“Wow. You guys look like such megadouches” he pointed at Bro and then at little me “Megadouche and his little sidekick, Little Douche Mcgee, ready to paint the world with their absolutely douchey-ways.” I started to laugh because, Little Douche Mcgee would touts be my super-hero Alias “Also, if this is how your glasses look on your face, you’re better off without them. They are not only *clearly* designed for women, but now that I can see both of them, your eyes are amazing looking! They’re red, for fuck sakes! It’s like looking at rubys which means you’ve been wasting more than half your appeal potential by hiding them underneath these ugly fucks” he ranted, tapping at my shades in the image. 

I looked at him in a startled and wide-eyed kind of way, heat rising to my cheeks and clammy hands clutching the fabric of the blanket. I needed to get my cool back, so the smirk tactic came up.  

With a side smile and a squinty-y look his way I asked, joke-ish and cock-ish, “Dude, you this gay in a daily basis or is it just for me?” 

He gives me sardonic, despiteful look “You’re exactly the kind of asshole I’ve avoided starting a relationship with throughout the entirety of my life-span. I wouldn’t be with someone like you if you were the last human on Earth, because even then, you would find a way to hurt my feelings. And I don’t need a relationship to make me feel sorry for myself. I can do that on my own very well, fuck you.” 

“I never said anything about relationships. Have you never heard of casual sex?” 

“Been there, done that, big mistake. Can we change the subject now? How about your Brother? You know, we could just deliver him to the authorities” 

I laugh a bitter and loud laugh. 

“Last time I tried, they dismissed it and I got a dislocated shoulder and 3 days stuck inside a refrigerator” and I just kept laughing, remembering some lyrics I composed in there to make a masterpiece of fun and unadmitting irony that got so many likes and so much cashmoneeeei that I had hoarded enough food in my room to last months. It was gleeful until he decided to make us strife half an hour before school.  

I would just let myself get kicked so I wouldn’t miss History. 

All because our clan’s tradition is a bunch of bullshit! 

“Okay, so, what is your master plan?” 

“Vanish,” I told him truthfully “get out there, change names and never be seen again.” 

“Sounds like bullshit” 

“No, listen, I could just rob a cashier and grab the money to hop on a train to nowhere” 

“Now it sounds like crime. I don’t know what is worse” 

“The worse is the last and more final alternative” 

“Worse than robbing some unassuming cashier and vanishing? What would be worse than that?” 

I stare him dead in the eye, my bitter laugh dead, my face blank and dead serious and tell him “Murder.” 

I can tell he's looking in my soul to know if I'm serious or not. It’s solemn, because he knows I am, so I joke to break a bit of the ice. 

“Larceny doesn’t sound do bad anymore, does it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I'm just riding this inspirational high.  
> Hope you guys like it, cause I have no clue where I'm taking this.


	5. Karkat

Eventually I had to leave that place, and not only that, but since the guy was that scared of being at the end of a bullet, I had to tire him out. NO. THAT WAS NOT INNUENDO. We just watched some dumb movie that he liked in my cellphone until he slept, and I left him a post-it note that I would be back after my classes were over. 

Obviously, I couldn’t focus on anything. 

Dave didn’t have a cellphone, as far as I could tell, which means I couldn’t talk to him to check if he was okay and, more importantly, if he was still in bed. 

Not that I was just waiting and being useless. I googled his brother and the rest of his family. The Facebook thing was more of a joke, however, there was some truth to it. 

\--carcinoGeneticist [CG] began pestering twinArmaggedons [TA]\-- 

CG: HEY, ASSHOLE 

TA: hey a22hole 

TA: 2iince the plea2entriie2 are now out of the way 

TA: what the fuck do you want? 

CG: WHY DO I NEED TO WANT ANYTHING TO MESSAGE YOU? 

CG: YOU KNOW WHAT, I’M NOT EVEN GONNA GO THERE 

CG: FUCK IT 

CG: I NEED YOU TO TELL ME HOW TO SEARCH THE DEEP WEB 

TA: … 

TA: are you 2eriiou2? 

TA: ii thought you were goiing to a2k me 2omethiing hard... 

CG: WELL, FUCK YOU. NOT EVERYONE CAN HAVE THE SAME TECH AUTISM YOU SEEM TO RUB INTO UNASSUMING PASSERBY SO ANASHAMEDLY, OKAY? SOME OF US HAVE TO BE GOOD AT DEALING WITH MORE IMPORTANT THINGS. 

TA: and yet, you come to me when you need help 

CG: … 

CG: OKAY, TECH IS COOL AND IMPORTANT AND SHIT, BUT I DON’T HAVE TIME NOR WILL TO STROKE YOUR RIDICULOUSLY BIG EGO. JUST FUCKING TELL ME HOW TO DO THE THING. 

TA: you’ll own me a favor iif II do thii2 

CG: DIDN’T YOU YOURSELF SAID THAT “iit’2 not hard” 

TA: don’t u2e my quiirk. iit’2 weird iin your gray. 

TA: and ii’m not 2ome phiilanthropi2t 

TA: ii don’t ju2t do shiit becau2e 2ome a22hole came knockiing and a2ked niicely 

CG: NOW WE KNOW FOR SURE YOU’RE *NOT* TALKING ABOUT ME 

TA: not  everythiing revolve2 around your a22 KK 

TA: but yeah 

TA: e22enciially 

TA: iim not doiing iit for free 

CG: YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT UP FRONT 

CG: TELL ME YOUR PRICE 

TA: ii want you to create a dii2tractiion for me duriing lunch 

CG: WHAT DISTRACTION ARE YOU THINKING? FOODWARS? ME GIVING A SPEECH ABOUT HOW MUCH I HATE THE COFFEE MACHINE IN THE FUCKIGN CAFETERIA? STARTING AND ACTUAL RING FIGHT? 

TA: ii need you to create a 2iituatiion that wiill get Fef alone 

TA: ii don’t care what 

CG: OH BY CHRIST 

CG: YOU WANT TO MAKE THE MOVE TOMORROW? 

CG: ARE YOU STUPID? 

TA: oh, 2o you have a better plan? 

CG: FOR THIS KIND OF ISSUE I *USUALLY DO, FUCKFACE!* 

CG: FEF IS CHEERY AND HAPPY-GO-LUCKY 

CG: SATURDAY THE AMUSEMENT PARK IS GOING TO HAVE A 25% OFF ENTRANCE FEE 

TA: why would Fef want to go there? 

CG: THEY HAVE AN EXPO OF FISH THAT LIVE IN THE DEEPEST DEPTHS OF THE SEA, YOU BRAINDEAD **IDIOT**, SHE WILL FUCKING LOVE THAT SHIT! 

\--twinArmaggedons [TA] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]\-- 

He left me hanging? Son of a bitch ! 

\--twinArmaggedons [TA] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]\-- 

TA: okay. 2he loved the iidea 

CG: HA! I TOLD YOU SHE WOULD! 

CG: BUT FUCK YOU FOR DITCHING ME. 

TA: ii was gone for 5 2econd2 

TA: how cliingy can you be? 

CG: WE WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING AND YOU JUST WENT POOF 

CG: AS FAR AS I KNEW, YOU COULD BE RUNNING FOR YOUR LIFE BECAUSE SOME WITCH HUNTER FOUND OUT YOU’RE PHSYCHIC AND YOU WERE HEADED FOR THE WOODS, LIKE THE BRAIN DEAD SMUCK YOU CAN BE WHEN THE MATTER AT HAND IS NOT A TECHNOLOGIC BASED ONE 

TA: you really thiink ii don’t have a 2ecuriity me2ure iin2talled for the ca2e? 

TA: plea2e, biitch. who you thiink your talkiing to? 

CG: THE FACT THAT YOU FOUND THE NEED TO DO THAT DOESN’T MAKE ME LESS WORRIED, SHITHEAD 

TA: do you wanna go iinto the deep web or not 

CG: YES 

TA: fii2t thiing2 fiir2t 

TA: go to an ii2olated computer 

TA: one you don’t u2e and doe2nt care iif iit get2 hiijacked 

TA: 2econd 

TA: download an antii-viiru2 

TA: ii u2ually u2e thii2 one 

TA: http://ibite_thehackersarses6969.com 

TA: then, un2tall your window2 

CG: THIS IS GETTING INTO CODING TERRITORY 

TA: don’t worry, ii would never let you have to code a computer. iif thii2 went iinto codiing terriitory iit would be ea2y. the way iim 2howiing you how to do iit riight now iis the way iit iis becau2e ii cant get you to code 2hit

CG: FUCK YOU AND THANK YOU 

CG: I REALLY DON’T HAVE TIME TO DO-OVERS 

TA: why don’t you ju2t a2k me to look iit up for you whatever iit iis that you’re after? 

CG: BECAUSE I MIGHT TO HAVE TO DO IT AGAIN 

All n’ all he did explain to me in a fairly easy way how to get to the deep web, now I just had to do it in a secluded place with a public device – because no way I would spend my hard-earned money on a throw away computer. 

Which reminds me I have to update my blog with a new post. 

Which reminds me that I’m gonna have to do that later because I can’t leave Dave alone in the fucking hospital. 

Which makes me think I could just do that there. Why didn’t I think of that earlier?? 

Well, I did say I was coming over after classes. He doesn’t know when my classes end. Until he saw that post-it note he didn’t even know I had classes at all. 

 He did say he went to school, could he have passed his entrance exams and started college? Cause if that was the case he would be, not only missing classes, but other people would be missing him too. 

Maybe they’ve already even filed a missing people’s report at the station. 

Maybe his brother’s seen it. 

Fuck it. I’m missing my last period. I really didn’t want to, but the faster I move, the bigger the chance he has be safe.  

I’m not letting anyone die in my fucking backyard. 

The only things that get to die in my property are my romantic predispositions and my aspirations of ever being a good leader. Nothing fucking else. 

Inside the library I find Terezi, sitting in a computer adapted to her needs. It would usually be harder to find one of those sitting out in the open, but she’s been in here, I would even dare say, more than the actual librarian. So they just let it there for her to use. 

“Hey” 

“Oh! Karkles! You don’t usually come this way!” 

“Yeah. But I needed to use a computer that isn’t mine” 

“Trying to avoid predisposed answers from google? Or getting distracted?” 

“I need to go into the deep web” 

She “looked” at me – which just means she faced me – took a deep breath and cackled like a drunk irish lunatic in saint patrick’s day, pointing my way like I was a clown of a circus parade that just had my pants drawn down to my knees and was sporting hearty underwear. 

Holy shit, were did these many metaphors come out of? Fucking cripple ass blond, rubbing his shit all over my oral proficiencies and making me think bullshit. 

I sat down beside her and started the process Sollux had instructed me while he maniac and witch-y cackles died down. 

“I TOLD YOU” she started loud but trying to hold her shit together. Lucky for the both of us no one was here at this time – classes were still going. Terezi cleared a dripping tear off of her eye and kept going “I told you that you were gonna get yourself into trouble” 

“I was in trouble way before that douche came up. Mostly because of you.” 

Terezi set her chin in the back of her hand and kept her face towards me. 

“Oh, Kar. I trully appreciate what you did” the smile she was sporting didn’t even waver, even though we were talking about some illegal shit I did for her. Fucking- 

“Oh yeah. Noooo. Don’t even think about letting me know why I had to lie to the police when you brought a body to my home *right after* you had JUST HEALED!” 

Her smile became close mouthed and little wrinkles appeared beside her eyes, like she was forcing the smile upwards to look more genuine “You don’t want to know” 

“Please TZ, tell me you didn’t kill that guy” 

“Nah.” 

“Or let Vriska kill him!” 

She kept quiet and the smile vanished. 

The day that happened was raining. A way heavier rain then when I found Dave. There was mud everywhere outside, and my things got all soggy because my house windows have locks so old they could compete in age with Morgan Freeman. 

But all in all I was cozy. The weather was hot and humid, my Tv was on with some random movie. I was already in my sleeping clothes – a white sleeveless shirt that I paired with gray shorts and flip flops. Everything was complete with a big bowel of popcorns for a night of mind-numbing entertainment. 

Until I heard footsteps in my garden. 

I didn’t know who the fuck it could be, so I placed the bowel on the couch and reached for the entrance window. 

Judging by the fact it was dark out, think about my worry when all I see is an amorphous blob with two sets of paired legs heading my way. If you didn’t get scared yourself, there’s something wrong with you. 

Backing from the window I thought about the deadliest most versatile thing I could use as a weapon, seeing as I wasn’t one of those douche-y assholes in possession of Japanese Katanas or one of those rich assholes with enough dough to acquire a Glock or a Smith Wesson. 

So, I went for the broom. 

Now. I know what you’re thinking. You’re probably judging me a lot. But you know what, if you are, you’re an asshole, because if you’ve never used a broom to deal with rats or cockroaches, check your fucking privilege, you privileged fuck. AND, just to complete the picture, imagine me flipping you both the birds. 

So yeah! I took the broom. 

Terezi and Vriska barged the door. Terezi laughed at me holding the broom. I hit her in the face with the dusty end. She was all full of dust and then I just went “HA HA. WHO’S LAUGHING NOW?” 

Summarizing this bitch from the fucking seventh heaven: the guy was out and they needed to interrogate him because he was a key lead in whatever it was they were doing. He was a relatively known figure on the underground, so the cops were after him. Turns out the scourge sisters got him first, but since they had caused a lot of trouble to actually get to him, they were in a bind. The cops showed up knocking at my door. The girls hid the body and then themselves, but I could see them. 

I opened the door and the cop asked me if I had or not seen a guy – that now that I think about it, had the same description Terezi gave me when I pulled Dave out of the Grave – with formal outfit and two girls. 

It didn’t even cross my mind to do something like “Yeah. They’re right there” while I point “come right in. Do you want tea?” 

But my stomach was churning. So I looked at Vriska, who was motioning a kind of  _just do it already._ Then I looked at TZ. She was just as uncomfortable with it as I was, but she gave me a  _do it_ nod. So I looked at the cop and just said “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen anyone with that description. If I see anything, I’ll call the station.” The officer just nodded and left. 

They used my basement that day. 

I haven’t been back there since that happened. 

I’m afraid I might see blood or limbs or a body. 

From then on, it became a cursed door. Forbidden and harrowing. I make sure to keep it always locked. 

Going back to TZ’s response you can understand why I wouldn’t like it. Why I would think she’s messing with things she’s not equipped to deal with yet. Why I would be worried for her – body and sanity wise. But if I pressure her, she’s going to slip through my fingers. If I don’t, the ball of shit she’s accumulating is only going to get bigger and heavier for her to carry. 

The computer is set and the browser is there, so I type the words. 

Dirk Strider. 

And I hope I’m not getting into deeper shit than whatever it is TZ’s got herself on because, unlike her, I don’t have a partner in crime, I don’t have a plan and I certainly don’t have the guts to do what it takes anymore. 

But I start my search anyway, because I REFUSE, I FUCKING REFUSE, TO LET SOME SHMUCK DIE IN MY *FUCKING* BACKYARD. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is officially the most fast paced posting i've ever done  
> I don't even know what I'm doing  
> Words just come  
> I feel like i'm seancing this fic, people  
> This is surreal


	6. Dave

The air conditioning was potent and the sheets were too thin, not to mention my super shameful hospital wear that allowed any passerby to look at my butt. Like’ I know the apron they give is supposed to make it easier for them to assess the wounds, but man, it just makes me feel super vulnerable. 

Cramps were starting to spread as well. I couldn’t bend my wounded leg – for obvious reasons – or my pierced arm. They started to feel like they didn’t exist anymore, so I did something stupid.  

I bent my leg. 

Slowly, because I haven’t used it in like’ two days. The pain was still there, but receding. I could always move my fingers, but doing it now had a new meaning. When I couldn’t keep it up any longer, I tried getting out of bed, putting most of my weight in my good leg. If I didn’t start to move soon, my muscles would get all kinds of rigid and unusable. Couldn’t let that happen if I was ever going to keep myself out of the fucking sword’s end. 

Then I heard the door sliding to the side. I looked back without turning and saw the dude with the curly hair. He was holding his backpack in one hand and a paper bag in the other that I just couldn’t identify. 

And then it hit me. 

From this angle, he can see my ass. 

Oh no. 

He got uncomfortable with the sight immediately, and so did I. The heat rose to my head, making me look, probably, like a ripe tomato.  

“I brought food” he said, also red, and looking to the side. I’d imagine it to be in an attempt at not making things worse. 

To avoid any more embarrassment, I got back under the sheets, covering everything up to my neck. How could I have been so stupid! This was a slapstick comedy worthy scene, come straight out of a Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler or Owen Wilson worth movie! He’s gonna think he dug up, not only the pupil of one of the greatest assassins this side of the sea, but a creep with an exhibitionist kink! 

Not that I kink shame or anything, you can have whatever kink you want. My Bro’s the owner and creator of a porn empire based off of puppets. If you’re into exhibitionism, bdsm, butlers, futanaris, etc,  bitch you tame. The things he posts are the real deal in what should be shamed. 

That went on a tangent. A really big one. 

The dude closes the door and looks back at me after I got under the cover. 

“I hope you eat mc donalds, cause if you don’t I’m not going out there and getting you something else” 

“Well, the nurse won’t let me out, so I gotta exercise and eat the food in here, so you’re my fucking savior again because even dog shit beats hospital food” 

“Is that what you were trying to do?” 

I looked down and admitted “I didn’t really think the apron situation through. I just needed to know I could stand first, u kno?” 

“You did seem like you were standing just fine in your good leg. Did you even manage to put the other one on the ground before I entered?” 

I shook my head in an ashamed no, still making a point of looking to the white of the sheet. He sighed and threw the bag with the burger at my lap. I jumped surprised and started unwrapping the burger. Until I had my eyes in it I hadn’t even realized how hungry I was. 

He dug his computer out of the backpack and I just had to butt in. 

“Why did you bring that?” 

“I have a site and I have to update it. It’s my source of income.” 

That picked my interest and drove it away from the burger enough for me to actually look at him, since I also maintained blogs and sites n’ shit like that. 

“What’s it about?” 

“It’s a critique site. I rant on length about restaurants, theaters, books and sometimes people.” 

“Yeah, I can touts see why you’d have that line of work” I tease him while still stuffing my face in McDonalds. 

“First of all, fuck you. Second of all, are you a hobo or something, or are you an actually contributing member of society who’s either going to get a job or is getting higher education?” 

That came out of nowhere, but I guess is a matter as good as any to start the whole description of why my family is nuts. 

“I can only keep on living if I’m either someone else or I kill my supervisor. It’s either brand new name, no shades, maybe a wife or shades, sword and being permanently stuck with this bullshit.” 

Karkat swallows a visible lump on his throat. 

“How old are you?” he asks. 

“I pretty much just turned 18. Finished High School and all that-” that was a whole thing. I’m just glad my friends didn’t just suddenly vanish. Without steeling so much of Johns food I don’t know if I could have ever gotten through that whole year “shit. I did apply for colleges and shit like that, but 4 or 5 months after my birthday I stumbled down some stairs that just happen to have a sword at just the right angle to cut my thigh this deep. I wonder if that excuse would have been enough to diverge the attention of some teachers back at senior year, hah.” 

Nostalgia is a bitch. 

He didn’t say anything, but looked at me like he wanted to lick my wound.  

“Don’t give me that look. I’m not a victim or some dumb shit of the sort. This is a ‘you should’ve seen the other guy’ type of situation. Yeah, I lost, but I went down fighting. I’m not innocent or anything-” 

“Shut up. Don’t give me that bullshit. You ARE innocent. Comparatively with the shit I dug up about your brother you’re a fucking angel.” 

“You dug shit up about Bro!?” 

“Yeah. Don’t worry. I have hacker friends aplenty. If he has any tech savvyness you can chill. He can’t track us. I did the search in a public device, uninstalled Windows and all the other shit.” 

“Why would you do all that?” 

“Deep web. If your brother is really an assassin, he has to be hired somewhere. So I went to dig on his work and his contacts. I do have to say, I was disappointed when I realized you were not crazy. Cause if that was the case, I could just dump your ass in the mental hospital and be rid of this fucking issue. But nooo. Nothing can be easy to me. Not my friendships, not my relationships, not my family, not even the rando that was going to get buried in my yard could be FUCKING normal.” 

I finished eating the burger while he ranted and my mouth started to feel clammy. I could go for a drink, so I started digging the paper bag, but other than the french fries, no dice. 

“If you’re looking for a soda, I would be stupid to leave it in a paper bag” 

He fishes a coke from his backpack. Is he the felix cat? 

“Your name is Felix.” 

“Where did that one come from?” 

“You take everything from the fucking bag! Are you playing a Hermione with that shit?” 

“Shut up and drink the fucking soda” he ordered pushing the thing into my hands “and no. My name’s not fucking Felix. Or Hermione. Because you might just be dumb enough to try and ask that one too.” 

“Worth a shot” I said and shrugged before downing that shit like I was a man in the desert that found an oasis with an ironic dick shape and several hot chicks. Perfect place to drawn both heads, heh. 

“Anyway. Your brother seems actually competent at this. He goes, does the job, no strings attached to anything ever, gets paid, moves on. From what people say he’s killed people of all kinds, but he has a code: he’ll never kill someone he wasn’t paid to kill, no matter how much easier it would be to do just that.” 

“Who would’ve thought that he had something resembling morals?” 

“Most assassins do. It’s weird, but it’s what keeps them sane.” 

“Found that in your searches?” 

“Yeah”  _But not exclusively_  is what he said with his tone and posture. I wasn’t going to push. Not my place to do it anyway. 

“Why did you go dig him anyway?” 

“The more I know about someone, the better I can exploit their flaws and lacks. Things they want, people they long to see again, lies they’ve been told. The last one is the reason I actually went to look for your family history.” 

“Yeah. My family history is weird-” I tell him. 

“Not so much. Not the core of it. And it’s your family. How can you find it fucking hard to understand? Any literate fuck can read and comprehend this!” 

“Oh yeah? Then what did you read in my wikipedia page?” 

“There’s a fucking wikipedia for you savage assholes??” 

“Yeah, dude. And it’s as lengthy as my enhardened dick.” 

“I didn’t read the wikipedia, but the page you guys have on the deep web is disturbing.” 

“Is there something in the deep web that’s not disturbing?” 

“Ironically, the part where they sell guns. It’s an actual site that doesn’t look like it could create life and eat your ass or have so many layers of coding to be done to actually get to the information you need you’d need to get to college and learn all that shit first.” 

“Ranged weapons are for pussies” 

“Don’t tell that to your brother’s partner. She’ll shoot you straight through the dick” 

“He doesn’t have a partner. At least he never told me about having one” 

“Her name’s Roxy Lalonde, a motherfucking A class sniper. They usually work on their own shit, but once in a while they team to kill some political figure or end a crime family or something of the sort. Roxy’s code says she’ll never kill someone that’s never done great evil. She will never kill children, pregnant women and honest people. For her is more of a vigilante kind of shit. Your brother’s way less fucking scrupulous if compared to her, but she’s never ever missed a shot.” 

Roxy's in the business??

“How do you remember all that shit?” 

He fishes a notebook with chicken scratch scribbled shit. The dude is diligent, that is undeniable. 

“Okay. Bro found a girlfriend who’s just as bananas as him. Great.” I say sipping the coke loudly and lying through my teeth. 

“Apparently, they are related, actually. I think she might be your cousin or some shit.” Fuck

I fucking choke. How could Bro never have told me they were still around? He continues. 

“Which brings me back to what I found in the deep web about your family. Turn the page. No, one more. That one!” he says pointing “In the middle ages The Striders were feudal lords. They had four progenies, two sons and two daughters. The Older Brother was envious of his Younger Brother, because he was loved by everybody. The Younger Sister envied the Older Sister because everything was-” 

“always for her” 

I remember this story. He lets me continue. 

“One day the feud was under attack. The parents of them died, but before they did, they ordered the older ones to care for the younger ones thinking the boys would stay with the boys and the girls with the girls. But the Older boy got the Younger girl and left, while the two that were left stood by themselves.” 

“That is where our stories diverge. But continue.” 

“The Oder Girl married off to some other guy and ended up with the Lalonde surname. The Younger Brother became rich and complacent. The Older Brother and Younger Sister, seeing them happy even after everything that went down filled themselves with hate. The Older Brother killed the Younger, and the Younger Sister killed the Older and they took to themselves every possession they had. But since they died when they were on top, the Younger Brother and Older Sister got angry and sad at their siblings. Admonishing what they did. So they cursed the family. There can never be two. When they reach age of being the heir to the throne, they will fight to see who gets to be next.” 

He whistles 

“Okay, the wikipedia page is dark too. Why is your family history this fucking foreboding??” 

I shrug “Hey, didn’t chose to be crazy dude.” 

“I’ll disregard that. If you were crazy this would be much easier. In the version I found, the Older Brother and Younger Sister kill their siblings when they’re still young. They regret it after the deed is done, though. Filled with remorse they make an exchange with the Devil. They will reincarnate every time, and serve the evil the devil want’s to spread, but the Devil also has to revive their siblings. Ever since, they have trained their opposites to kill them, in a way to let the Devil happy for a while, but also as ways of repentance for the first time they killed their siblings.” 

I had never heard that story like that. So that means... 

“Bro thinks I’m the bad brother?” 

He denies “He knows you’re not.” 

“Then why-” 

“He wants *you* to kill *him*. So he can fulfill the prophecy. The fact Roxy is also the Oldest Lalonde means she probably already killed her Younger Sister too. She is likely The Virtuous one. Your Brother probably thinks you are too, cause let’s face it, if he wanted, he could have finished you. The fucker didn’t. The wound on your leg was a mistake on his part.” 

The pieces of the puzzle suddenly make a lot more sense. It’s complete, but backwards, because I’m scared of seeing what I just did. 

The picture is likely bloody and gruesome. 

“I can’t kill him” 

“You can, it’s just a matter of-” 

“No. No, you don’t get it,” I place my hand in my cheek, trying to ground myself “I morally can’t kill him! He is the asshole who let me starve, who imprisoned me in the fucking fridge, but I can’t take a life!” my hand goes to brush my bangs backwards in frustration, and I look at him with an exasperated look in my face. 

He’s smiling satisfied and... proud? 

And...okay, that’s gonna sound gay, but... 

He has a very attractive smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot had to start at some point  
> This is as good a time as any, even if this is not planned - at all.  
> Swear, i'm just taking bullshit out of my ass at this point.  
> Also, related to the last chapter, actually: I know nothing of hacking or the deep web or any of this bull, so if any of you do, please understand it's just plot convenience bullshit.  
> Hope ya'll enjoy it anyway.


	7. Karkat

Throughout the days, me and Dave developed a sort of routine. I would come by during the afternoon with my devices and things to take the boredom out of him, like comic books, shitty B movies like Machete or Zoolander, the news – because he liked to read about the economy?? I regret it all the time, but it will keep him compliant, and if shit is bad with him, without him its bound to be worse. 

After the event of me seeing his ass I brought him some of my clothes and bought him some underwear – because that was a whole thing we decided to never ever acknowledge ever again, but it still happened and needed to be dealt with. 

Everything that week was fine, and since he was abiding by the rules, I was feeling generous, so I decided to look for some ophthalmologist that could fix his glasses, but since I was running after that, I couldn’t go check him on the hospital. The fucker didn’t have a cellphone and wouldn’t trust a nurse to stay with him – if I did that, he would probably get cagey with her and bitter with me. 

How to soften him up? 

He does like to get food. 

I vaguely remember him saying he liked apple juice? Urgh. Gross, but I  _guess_  I can indulge him. 

With that in mind I pass by a convenience store and grab him a cartoon of apple juice. Then I walk a bit further and grab a foot-long subway with enough greens to make him hate me for the rest of his life, but with meatballs because even I can’t take the merits of subway’s meatball sandwiches. I have yet to meet a soul that doesn’t like them, and when I do, my arguments on why it’s so good he should get his tongue replaced are going to be so thorough, whoever that person might be will get a tongue replacement. 

I drop them by the Hospital in a bag and tell the sloth attendant to give’em to room 123 and then bounce to look for the other things. 

On my way back home, I found a place to do the sunglasses job. I leave’em and go from there on home. Inside my place I head straight to my room and open the computer in my lap, sitting in my bed still dressed with the clothes of the day. 

Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr. Nowhere has any information relevant about The Striders or The Lalondes that I can find – until I find a picture of Roxy suspending her younger sister by her armpits. 

The girl looks like the incarnation of Mandy – from Billy and Mandy – in this reality. 

I Immediately like her. 

It’s an old photo. Probably from 5 or 6 years back, by the looks of Roxy. The tiny girl looks like she’ll bite your finger off it you try to touch her. With crossed arms and drawn eyebrows her violet eyes pierce to your soul. Not a very contrasting expression with the purple dress filled with dead flowers she’s using. 

The photo is tagged. Clicking on it you’re sent to a page that no longer exists. 

But there is a link there. 

And the link works. 

Why would a link work and be clickable if not because there is a page there that can be accessed? 

\--carcinoGeneticist [CG]began pestering twinArmaggeddons [TA]\-- 

CG: HEY, ASSHOLE 

TA: what ii2 iit thii2 tiime ? 

CG: I NEED YOU TO CHECK THE PROGRAMMING OF THIS PAGE FOR ME 

I sent him the link to the unfound page. 

TA: why? iit2 ju2t an unfound page.  

CG: JUST DO IT FOR FUCK SAKES 

TA: okay, diick 

Sollux takes some time, but comes back to me soon enough. 

TA: KK, what the fuck? Thi2 2hiit ii2 iincriipted 

CG: WHAT? REALLY? 

CG: CAN YOU CRACK IT? 

TA: ii can try, but thii2 ii2 next level iincriiptiion iim talking about. Thii2 2hiit could be FBI materiial for all ii 2ee up iin thii2 biitch. 

CG: IS THAT YOU SAYING YOU CAN’T DO IT? 

TA: fuck you, KK, ii can crack anythiing 

CG: HOW LONG FOR YOU TO DO IT? 

TA: that depend2 on how iintriicate thii2 code actually ii2. And how lengthy 

TA: but don’t thiink iim doiing thii2 for free 

CG: YOU KNOW WHY YOU ARE? YOU’RE GOING TO DO THIS WITHOUT THIS SOUR ATTITUDE BECAUSE I GAVE YOU THE BEST THING YOU COULD EVER WANT RELATED TO CODING: A CHALLENGE. SO FUCK OFF, BECAUSE WE BOTH KNOW YOU’RE GONNA DO IT, NO MATTER IF FOR ME OR FOR YOURSELF AND YOU’RE GOING TO ENJOY IT LIKE THE MASOCHIST CREEP YOU ARE. SO DON’T COME AND TRY TO SCAM ME. 

TA: … 

CG: … 

TA: ii hate iit when you’re riight 

\-- carcinoGeneticist  [CG]  ceased pestering twinArmaggeddons  [TA]\-- 

A smile spreads through my face because, fuck, I love being right. I also rejoice when people listen to my instructions which means this was two birds with one stone to my ego – not that I love myself or any narcissistic shit of the sort, but proving my point and advancing in the problem-solving aspect usually helps me to see the day as being a more productive one. 

In the next page – which is my work e-mail – someone sent me a movie they made with a college group. They want me to take a look at it and find the missing plot points and shit of the sort cause they are gonna try and monetize it. Good pay. Seems like a decent production and I needed some money anyway. 

Dave’s glasses are going to come off as an expensive perk. 

I just hope it pays off and he doesn’t start going batshit crazy on people. 

* * *

The next day fucked me in the butthole. 

 

\-- twinArmaggeddons [TA]  began pestering  carcinoGeneticist [CG] -- 

 

TA: KK, you’re an a22hole, and thii2 2hiit ii2 makiing me go crazy! 

CG: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN BY THAT? 

TA: the iincriipthiion of thii2 thiing ii2 expertly done. nothiing ii couldn’t manage, but whoever thii2 per2on miight be, you don’t wanna me22 whiith them. They could fiind your bank account and liick iit clean iin a matter of 2econ2. 

TA: thii2 guy2 are dangerou2 

TA: what the fuck are you getting your2elf at? 

CG: NOTHING THAT IS YOUR BUSINESS. TRUST ME WHEN I TELL YOU THAT YOU DON’T WANNA KNOW.  

TA: you’re iin  cahoot2 with TZ, aren’t you? 

Oh. So Terezi has been asking Sollux to decrypt shit too?  

Wait- this is a good opportunity to gather info on what she’s doing. If he thinks I'm playing her game maybe I can get to know what IS her game. 

What should I say?  

CG: DID SHE TELL YOU? 

TA: ii’m not a2 autii2tiic a2 you paiint me, a22hole 

TA: ii can 2ee 2he ii2 workiing on 2omethiing 2tupiid that ii2 probably ju2tiice related and all around bull2hiit 

TA: you’re 2portiing the 2ame pattern 

CG: YOU STILL HAVENT SAID WHAT YOU GOT FROM THE PAGE. 

TA: ii got nothiing 

CG: NOW I KNOW YOU ARE BULLSHITTING ME 

CG: HOW COME SOMEONE ENCRIPTS A PAGE WITH FB FUCKING I LEVELS OF EXPERTISE AND THERE IS NOTHING TO PROTECT? 

TA: iit’2 liike there ii2 a part mii22iing 

CG: IN THE CODE? 

TA: no you iidiiot. Iit'2 liike 2omeone encriipted the page iin a format that wa2 iincompatiible wiith the plataform they diid iit 

That is weird. 

CG: WHY WOULD SOMEONE DO THAT? 

TA: ii don’t fucking know. 

There is a feeling behind in my guts that tells me I’m this close to finding more relevant shit about The Striders and The Lalondes. 

CG: GIVE ME THE ENCRIPTION YOU DID. 

TA: what? 

CG: I NEED THE CODE. PRINT IT AND SEND IT TO ME. OR FUCKING COPY IT HERE. I DON’T CARE. I JUST NEED IT. 

TA: fiine, but ii wanna know whatever you fiind 

CG: WHAT? 

TA: ii2 eiither that or no diice 

CG: SHIT, OKAY, FINE, BUT DON’T BLAME ME FOR WHAT YOU MIGHT FIND. 

\-- twinArmaggeddons [TA]  sent  **fbiicancryofenvy.exe** to carcinoGeneticist [CG]\-- 

\--  twinArmaggeddons [TA] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] \-- 

The Sollux thing was only the beginning, because not only I had highly likely compromised Dave’s anonymity, but I had to deal with a cagey situation. 

Almost literally. 

When I got to the hospital and went up the floors to Dave’s room, I saw his door open and got weirded out by it. So, I ran a little and saw a scene that was scary and dumb all at the same time. 

Dave was standing – in both legs – and holding the metal bar that stood in his room with either serum or blood beside the bed like it was a weapon. The thing wasn’t holding anything, it was only a metal bar, now. Unlike the other days, he was fully dressed. Jeans, socks and a white T-shit with red shoulders and sleeves. His hair was disheveled and humid, like he decided to take a shower. His face was frightened. 

On the other side of the room, there was a nurse with a syringe – and the poor girl looked like life was meaningless and her soul left her body ages ago. Bags under her eyes that could compete with mine – and I sleep around 3 hours a day. She was so fucking fed up I took pity on her. I know how you feel. 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?” I said. 

“Karkat?” Dave said. 

He looked at me, and some semblance of realization dawned on the nurse’s face. She stepped forward fast. Dave also realized this, and he was seriously going to hit her in the face with the blunt weapon. 

I held one hand up, holding the metal holder and held one hand in the direction of the nurse, telling her to stop. She gave me an incredulous look, and I gestured her to wait. Then I turned to him. 

“What the fuck?” 

“I didn’t sign up for an injection” 

“You didn’t sign for shit! When I brought you, you were unconscious, you lunatic. Put that thing down!” 

His face got cold, but he lowered the weaponized holder. 

Then I turned to the nurse. 

“I actually don’t remember signing for shots. What the fuck is that?” 

She took a deep breath, like she was full of having rabid patients to deal with. I truly get her. 

“Since the wound he had was caused by a puncture of iron and there are no registers of him having taken the Anti-tetanic vaccine, the doctors said he should take the shot” 

“So that’s just a vaccine?” 

The nurse nodded. 

“I’m not taking it” Dave said convicted. 

Now I look at him incredulous. 

“I don’t know her and that syringe could have anything – truth serum, poison, plain out old air. All that shit could kill a person. You know that if you have air in your veins, for as little as it might be, your brains will deoxygenate and you’ll die? I ain’t doing her the favor of being easy pray. I’m not taking that shit, nuh uh.” 

“YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT!” I exclaim. 

Dave lifts his arms and backs against the wall with a wounded look. Shit. I got carried away. 

“Look-” I try to start over “you know how vaccines work, right? You know what they do. It’s supposed to protect you, not harm you.” 

“Karkat, I’m tired of being hurt. You signed for me right? Don’t let her do this, man” 

Oh by fucking- AHHHHHHHH! WHY? HE LOOKS SO FUCKING SCARED! Like, okay, no one likes vaccines and everybody knows the Anti-tetanic is one of the shots that hurt the most, losing probably only to Benzetacil but he just looks so hurt and frightened.  

I don’t wanna make him go through this but it’s for his own fucking good! Why can’t he see that himself? 

I take a very deep breath and hold him by the forearms in the most grounding way I can manage “You have to take it” I start saying, looking as he shakes his head, looking at me with a betrayed look “and I know you’re sick of being stung” I look down at the joint of his left arm, only to be greeted by the sight of the green of the puncture place and then I looked up at his face “but you’re thinking on the short term. I need you to think long term, you understand?” it’s a sort of silent exclaiming, because I shake him a little.  

He looks at my shirt and keeps shaking his head in a rhythmic fashion. Maybe trying to wrap his head around the idea. 

Until I hear a faint whisper. Almost a plead. 

“I’m scared” he said grabbing his right arm right above the puncture wound and bringing it close. 

My heart clenched like Equius had decided to compress it. 

I brought him to my chest by the back of his head – he had to hunch a little, but that’s beside the point. Then, in a whisper “I know” I answered “but I’m here.” 

That seemed to have done something, because now, instead of shaking his head, he started to nod. I couldn’t for the life of me find out how the words “I’m here” made him have a change of heart. I’m a mediocre fucker from here to hell and back, but I'm just fucking glad it did. 

I signed for the nurse to come closer and she quickly followed the cue. When he heard the cart with medical equipment come close, he stood to look and I could see his nerves building up, partially because he started taking ragged breaths. The fear escalating in his guts. 

I forced him to look at me and stop looking at the nurse by placing a hand in his face and turning it my way. A distraction. Think of something to distract him, Karkat. 

“So, like, your taste in movies suck.” 

“Heh. Yeah.” 

“Like’ Zoolander? Really?” 

“Ironic comedy” 

He never shuts up. Is he so scared he’s answering in short sentences? This is gonna be hell to keep a conversation. 

The nurse applies the alcohol on his arm and he gasps a whimper, anticipating the next step. Dave tries to look at what she’s doing but I guide his head back to me. His breathing is ragged and his posture is so stiff that If I took a block of concrete, the block would break upon contact with him. 

“No, dude. Ironic comedy is when you make fun of things that aren’t supposed to be. You wanna see an ironic movie about society? Watch a movie called The Lobster. It’s also a great love story in a sense.” 

He’s trying so hard to pay attention, but his breathing is so ragged that I start flaring my nostrils in the pattern of my breath for him to follow. Chokedly he starts, and when he manages to draw a deep breath, Dave lets out an elongated gasp. His right-hand shoots to hold my shirt at the rim. 

The needle must be in his arm. 

I look to the nurse only to see that the needle was already out. 

“It’s over, you whiny bitch-” I say giving two playful slaps at his face “now we can got to the reception and get your fucking lollipop.” 

“Heh. I need to seat. I don’t feel so good.” 

He doesn’t even manage a step before his knees give out. I grab him by the waist. He rearranges and I sling his right arm into my shoulders, taking him to the bed. 

When I take my usual seat opposite to the door and breathe – cause that was stressful – the nurse is already at the other side of the door with the cart. She gives me a side smile, an okay sign with the hand and then I see her soul die. She closes the door and leaves. 

“Karkat, I can’t move my left arm.” 


	8. Dave

“Dude, seriously, I can’t feel my arm” 

“You’ve told me” he says back. 

“On another note, why did you tell them we were boyfriends?” 

“When did I do that?!” Karkat asks incredulous. 

“Oh yeah. Did I mention how I found out your name? Don’t think so.” 

“Got me by surprise that you figure it out.”  

“So, here’s what happened: I was reading a comic book when the nurse came in and slid the door to my room like it was her room and she didn’t own me anything. Like it was her fucking place, you follow?” 

“She’s a nurse, they do that. Some patients can’t open the door you brain dead fucker.” 

“Then she just comes up and say “Karkat came by and asked us to drop some stuff for you” and I just go like “Karcawho?” and she be like “Karkat? Your boyfriend? The guy that comes by every day since your surgery?” you know? In a tone of voice like I'm the biggest douchemoron in the face of the earth – which I'm touts not. I try to correct her saying we’re not together like that but she just drops shit in the chair and leaves. Mind explaining why she thinks we be gay, dude?” 

“It was an executive decision, okay? I had to fill that fucking formulary and for me to be able to visit freely it would either be your partner or your brother. NO ONE would believe we’re brothers. You’re blond, my hair is black. You’re white as a candle, I have some fucking color in my face other than red when I’m ashamed. You’re like a good 5'6 and I’m measles 5'2. Deal with being gay for a little longer. We don’t even have to act PDA or anything like that.” 

“Oh my god. If my Bro finds me, the death that awaits is going to be a slow and painful one. He’s going to burn me alive.” 

“Why? He’s gay. If anything, that just might save your ass. Maybe he’s got a boyfriend we can exploit, who knows?” 

“No way my Brother’s a homo.” 

“Okay, maybe not homo, maybe bi from what I could gather. Half his contracts got finished because he seduced the target.” 

“Wait, what?” he WHAT? 

“You know. Pretend to be all innocent and bashful, seduce some rich guy that thinks he’s straight and just likes to take in the ass occasionally, slit his throat right before the act is finished – that is how half of your brothers contracts ended. He’s a killer hooker, as far as I can tell. He’s never gonna do that to you, so he has to necessarily go the direct round around to slaughter your ass. His patterns in that method are easier to track and discern since he is inspired in ninjas. It’s stupid because the first method is also a ninja method of killing people. Kunoichi's used to do that kind of stuff. It’s really stupid how much you brother is ninja-themed. Sickening even.” 

“Urgh” my head was spinning with so much information. 

I couldn’t believe any of that. Like’ I could – he being the owner of a porn empire and shit – but killer prostitution? Is he even capable of pretending to love someone? Or be interested at least. 

I couldn’t imagine Bro with his legs spread if someone payed me a thousand Dollars in cash money. 

Nope. That image goes straight were no one will ever see it. 

“Is your head better, at least?” 

“No... It feels like if I move it around, I’m gonna have a migraine the size of Texas. And my arm’still dormant dude.” 

“What happens when you try to move it?” 

“Hurts. Feels like a cramp in my fuckin’ arm. And I feel like I wanna puke a little.” 

Karkat keeps quiet for a moment and then he suggests something dumb. 

“Sing.” 

“What? Like’ now?” 

“No, fuck face, when I take you home. Of course now!” 

“I’m not feeling prime and you want me to sing.” 

“Sing something. Anything. Just, do it.” 

“Okay, fine, okay, fuck” 

Let me think about my repertoire, cause I'm sick and this fucker want’s me to sing. Oh, I have the perfect one. 

“Oh hai! I’m that guy built so fly in a silk bow tie 

Don’t know why I’m build so fly 

But I am, no lie- oh my! 

Rolled by on a low ride huffy 

Sitting on those pegs, shelltoes puffy 

Cuff rolled up to my calf 

Class out the ass, bad with the swag like buffy 

GottabetheonetobitethebulletI’masinnerbutIbetIcould’vebeenabetterman 

I wanna be Zen, butIgosippin’onsomemedicine 

Instead of meditating butIgetitwhenIcan” 

Pale kid raps fast by Watsky. Great song. I finish singing it and then I realize that my breathing is even, my headache has been dimmed and my vertigo has vanished. I dare look at him. His got a raised eyebrow. 

“Watsky, huh? Okay, maybe I judged you all wrong.” 

“You heard me sing, now it’s your turn.” 

“WHAT?” 

“You heard me sing! It’s not fair if only I do it. You gotta do it too.” 

“I wasn’t struggling with being able to look around. I don’t have to sing. Fuck you.” 

“C’moooon. Sing for me, my angel of music” and then I raised my arm that took the shot. Bad idea. Horrible idea. Terrible idea. SHIT, THIS HURTS. I touts didn’t let out a whimper resulting from my dumb act. And even if I did, it would’ve been a manly whimper. 

“You’re so dumb!” he said “Okay, the reference to The Phantom of The Opera makes me realize you’re not as uncultured as you look, but that was so fucking stupid, Dave!” 

“I know,” I answer him chokedly holding my arm “but I still wanna listen to you sing” 

He sighs loudly “If I sing, will you start thinking before you act?” 

“I can promise I’ll try?” 

“FINE. But I’m choosing the song.” 

“I was gonna let you choose anyway” 

Karkat looks down at his own lap for a minute and I wait eagerly – my arm still pulsates, but I was trying to ignore it. He takes his phone and scrolls and a piano start to play on the back ground. 

He places his hand on his lap and say “This song is called From God’s perspective” and I go like “You gonna sing gospel or something?” and he, angry as always, tells me to shut up “You’re gonna like the lyrics if you have any understanding of irony” to which I give him a side disdainful smile “Bitch, I live for the irony.” 

“Then shut up and listen.” 

So I do. His voice is scruffy even singing, but he doesn’t miss a tone. 

“The books you think I wrote are way too thick” to which he gestures the average thickness of a bible, then his voice takes a bitter tone “Who need a thousand metaphors to figure out you shouldn’t be a dick” The next tone is of exasperation “And I don’t watch you when you sleep” he slaps his forehead “Surprisingly I don't use my omnipotence to be a fucking creep” 

Then he takes a disdainful posture and look on his face. 

“You’re not going to heaven 

Why the fuck would you think I’d even kick it with you? 

None of you are going to heaven 

There’s a trillion aliens way cooler than you” 

And now I’m actually sporting a smile. He was right, this song is funny. But the more he sings, the other messages come forward. 

“You argue and you bicker and you fight 

Atheists and Catholics, Jews and Hindus argue day and night 

Over what they think is true 

But no one entertains the thought that maybe God does not believe in you 

You pray so badly for heaven  

Knowing any day might be the day that you die  

But maybe life on earth could be heaven  

Doesn't just the thought of it make it worth a try 

I'm not gonna give you love just 'cause I know that you want me to  

If you want love then the love's gonna come from you” 

We stay silent for a moment, waiting the piano finish it’s piece. 

“THERE! I sang.” He crossed his arms 

“Sing another one!” I asked. 

“No way. My singing voice if awful.” 

“You didn’t miss a single note. Your cadence was pretty on point. Your interpretations made everything funnier. You manage to amplify your voice pretty well, which means you don’t sing inwards, although that’s one I think you wouldn’t be able to do if you tried. You lack technique, but all in all, you’re a good singer, man. If you decided to rap I might even fall for you being an actual singer and shit” 

Not to say his husky voice was hella sweet. 

“No way. I’m not rapping if you payed me.” 

“I’ll sing whatever you want if you rap Thrift Shop.” 

“Oh. No, no way. That song is dumb.” 

He sang it for me anyway. But I had to sing the duet of Doc. Horrible Sing Alone or along – I don’t fucking know, I read the thing in his phone -  Blog. 

After some time, he stood up and complained his ass was going to get squared from the uncomfortable chair, so I offered a piece of the bed for him to sit and patted right in front of me. He sat by my side and compressed me to the right side of the bed. His back and neck cracked when he reclined, then he sighed of relief. Suddenly we heard a vibrating sound. Karkat reached inside his pocket and took his cellphone out. 

I miss my cellphone. Wonder if Bro threw all my shit into the trash. If he did, maybe I can get it back – wouldn't have to go back inside the apartment, way less dangerous. If he didn’t it’s cause he’s using them as bait – or leverage. 

But even if a lot makes sense, Bro not intending on killing me doesn’t. 

“Hey. I’m going to stay here a little longer. The internet is good and to solve this problem that’s going to be useful. Some brain-dead assholes want to speak about an all-around project and this might take a while.” 

“What’s it about?” 

“They sent me their project yesterday and they wanted me to watch. It’s a bunch of students from arts. They made a movie that they want to monetize and asked me for a private critique – which I gave them. Now they’re asking me how to fix it and I don’t know. I’m just a critique. But it’s almost like they want me in the project with them and I’m making a case of feigning interest because I have more important things to do. I don’t WANNA get involved in this. I just wanted the money from the review and that was IT.” 

“Now you picked my interest. What is the movie about?” 

“It’s about-” but then he stops and gets out of the bed “you know what? It’s easier if I just let you watch it. Don’t get expectant. It’s very poetic bullshit about love and life and philosophy. There is one funny part. And it’s only because they mention Obama.” 

“Holly shit, dude! How come you didn’t show this to me before! I’m honestly offended!” 

“I didn’t think you would be into Life, Love and Philosophy” 

“Fuck. All. That. How come you didn’t tell me there was a part about OBAMA?” 

“It’s not even that funny” 

I watched the movie in his cellphone and as it turns out, the movie was pretty boring – yes. Even with the addiction of President Obama. Which is why I slept right in the middle of it. 

Karkat kept working at his laptop and I slept while listening to him furiously typing his keyboard away. I dreamt about laying down on ice, and started shivering, but suddenly the huge ice cube I was above developed a certain sense of sentience and enveloped be. It was silky, and suddenly warm. It was like I had become a burrito. And as a burrito I was rolling on a grass field endlessly until it became a gap into nothingness, and as a human burrito I feel far, until reaching a chilly river and starting to drawn. 

I woke up and sat. The first thing I noticed while getting out of the clutches of sleep was that it was already night-time. The second was that the door was open. 

No one ever leaves the door open. Not Karkat nor the nurses. 

The third thing was the sweater. This was with no doubt, Karkats sweater that was on top of me. 

He wasn’t in here, but he certainly was still in the building – his backpack was right beside my bed. His phone was nowhere to be seen. My guts weren’t feeling happy either. I didn’t want to believe, but I knew that, somewhere around this building there was a Strife happening. 

I held the sack-holder with both my hands after standing on my feet and, taking care as to not slip since I was wearing socks but not shoes, went stealthily to round the hospital corridors. I took a turn- 

And saw his back. 

Without his baseball cap his hair protruded upwards. Even from the back, I could see the pointy end of his anime-shades. Slowly, as if to make himself look more awesome in the moonlight, he turned, impassive as always. 

My surprise was immediately subdued by my survival instinct and I missed my shades immensely – but my dread was not for myself.  

He tuned his sweet katana in his hand before adhering to me. 

“I see you’re already sporting an unstridery look. Paint your hair black, put some makeup and I might have to start looking into buying a dog to sniff you out.” 

“Could never imagine you with a dog. It would mean for you to care about something other than your own asshole.” 

“A dog would be an investment. You were just a big waste.” 

“If I’m a waste, why is it that you’re the one wasting time?” 

He advances, but out of the side corridor a lamp is flying towards our direction, aimed right at the middle. It clashes against the wall in sparkles and I’m suddenly blinded. From the underneath of my left arm I see a shadow running my direction, and before I can swing to knock it out, it grabs me by the waist and throws me in its shoulder, running fervently. 

My Bro is following right behind and gaining ground on us. I realize it’s Karkat who’s running while also carrying me and it’s strikes me now that – wow, this dude is stronger than I gave him any credit for. The only complaint I have but never actually came forward was that he was holding me by my thighs and butt, which made me extremely aware of how large and firm his hands were holding me. 

Bro lunges in a parry and I block, swinging the holder left-to-right. He slashes from the right and I swing the holder up, lifting his Katana so high it breaks one of those ceiling sprinklers. When I look around, everything is soaked, but Karkat doesn’t slow the pace. 

I don’t know why he thinks we can run from him, or why he tries so hard to take me out of his reach – but in a sense, I’m glad he does. 

The sprinkles soak everything – me, Karkat, the floor, the walls, the benches, even Bro – but what is really surprising in that moment is how, even when everything is wet, his hair keeps up. How much time does he actually spend in that anime look that is so strong water can’t put it down? 

I hope he isn’t as determined to kill me as he is to keep that hair. 

Karkat makes a sharp turn left – my left, his right, you get the picture – and I see my Bro gaining ground on us. I ready the holder to take a blow, but Karkat throws us sideways through a door. 

It’s stairs. 

I drop the holder when he gets stuck between the walls and Karkat holds me close to his chest, one hand in my head, the other on my lower back, protecting my spine. On a reflex of this same scenario, I place my hands protecting my face, and we roll down a floor of stairs. I didn’t count the bumps, but when it was over, he was out. 

“Dude. Dude!” 

He grunts and I breathe because he’s alive. 

“Why did you do that?” 

He puts a hand in my mouth, lifts from the ground and a little light from the other door comes through allowing me to see and realize something: he has no wounds at all. But he does have a very angry expression. His left eye is twitching and his breathing is fast paced. 

It’s low and husky, but I can hear the snarl in his voice. 

“I haven’t had to do physical education since High School, this is the most I’ve ever run in 2 (YEARS!)” he says the last word in a shouted and exasperated whisper “If it wasn’t for your gaudy ass, I could have gone the stealth round around and we could have avoided all this debauchery! But noooooo...” he facepalms “So much for the stealth.” 

“Dude, how can you-” 

“That's irrelevant. Can you stand? We need to leave.” 

He stands and cleans his ass from the dust of the fall like nothing happened. When I try to stand my wounded leg warns me I’m gonna be incapacitated easily, but I can’t keep weighing him down, literally. He helps me up and opens the door a little. He looks both ways but when I leave, from the corner I see. 

Bro comes down the stairs walking like nothing happened. The only difference is that now, he’s the one in possession of the metal holder. He places it – stuck – on the hospital floor and walks forward. 

“I’m disappointed with you, you know?” Bro started saying “Even with all the prime genes we share, that-” he points at Karkat “is all you managed for a boyfriend? Download Tinder, Man, this guy’s dick is never gonna make you reach it” 

I have so many mixed feelings about everything that he said, but they all boil down to one sentiment: anger. I miss my shades so much, because I can feel my features narrowing it down to his neck. The fucker is gonna lose his trachea, cause I’m gonna bite it off. 

The second after that, Karkat took a fire extinguisher off the wall. With the end of it he hit the ceiling sprinklers and restarted them. With the rest, he made a distraction. He threw the thing at Bro, grabbed my wrist and began running again. 

I heard the sound of metal for an instant, and then my body was slamming against the cold hard floor and slick floor of the hospital. That sent my body careening forward and when I stopped, Bro was stomping on Karkat’s chest. Sword ready in his hand. He started crouching, applying more pressure and when my heart was beating so fast that I could listen to my blood pumping in my ears, ready to throw myself in the middle of that, Karkat reacted. 

He punched Bro in the groin.  

Bro fell to the side, cradling his wounded sack – probably. Karkat took a deep breath and stood awkwardly to start running my direction.  

In all my life, I’ve never seen Bro as pissed as he was that day. 

Not when I broke a figurine of his and he left me in the fridge for a week. 

Not when I was home late and he got scolded by the landlord and made us strife for three hours to  _get the anger out of his system_. 

Not when I had to go home accompanied because I had entered a fight and his phone rang in the middle of a stealth mission and he almost got shot. He had me walk like a mouse for the house for a month, and rigged the fucking house with paintball guns for whenever I fell for one of his traps – dismissing the usual which consisted of puppets and swords. 

I’ve never heard him that angry. 

“YOU’RE DEAD! YOU HEAR ME? I’M SEDING MY CODE TO THE TRASH JUST FOR YOU, VANTAS! DEAD!” 

Bro doesn’t scream. 

“GET UP!” Karkat yells at me. 

I fight the slippery floors and stand at the command, pushing past the torpor of surprise. He grabs my soaked shirt and guides my sliding feet to the next set of stairs. Karkat opens the door, pushes us through and closes it. We start going down the flights of stairs, but a banging sound begins. 

“GO!”  

“I’M NOT LEAVING YOU!” I argue. 

“HE’S NOT AFTER ME! NOW GO!” and then he pushes me down the stairs. 

But I’ve been falling them my entire life, now, so I hold my footing a couple steps down where he is. 

The door busts open and when he turns to see the damage, my Bro’s hand is already on his neck, suspending him. His legs shake uselessly and his hands reach up to ease the pressure, but all effort is futile. 

I’ve been in that grip. 

I’ve been in the other end of that same sword. 

And then, I wasn’t fucked up in the thigh. 

I wasn’t unarmed.  

And every time, he was in the mood to be merciful. 

That grip in the handle wasn’t any indication of mercy. 

The disgusted snarl wasn’t any indication of mercy. 

And Karkat’s legs, moving less and less, was not any indication of mercy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MWAHAHAHAHA  
> cliff hanger ya'll!  
> PLOT IN THIS BIIIIITCH


	9. Karkat

My vision was starting to get blurry when a memory flashed through the back of my head: Dave and the way he was so protective around his  eye wear .

This douche’s glasses were even more moronic and if I was going to be murdered, I was going to go kicking and screaming.

At the last of the oxygen I had left I took his stupid anime glasses and tossed them across the floor. They broke the glass of the window and started falling.

His grip on my throat immediately loosen and I fall to the ground with both legs stretched and wobbly, walking back  with  uncertain steps and clutching were his hand once was. Coffs came in waves and the tears prickling my eyes blurred  my  vision.

The Fucker went after his weeaboo eye wear like he was spider-fucking-man doing a nose dive to sa v e MJ, breaking even more of the glass – like that wasn’t broken enough .

Dave held me with unsteady hands before I could trip and fall another flight of stairs. I hope he didn’t realize I’m not that hurt. That fall could cripple some other unassuming  shmoe  and I don’t need another  Terezi  to pry that out of me like I’m some kid holding sour strawberry candy before lunch.

“Are you alright?” he asks me.

I answer him sarcastically, but my voice comes out choked, low and huskier than usual “Yeah. Absolutely!” and then I cough, for emphasis. Then I start descending the stairs, but my legs are still shaky, so we lean on each other and reach the first floor.

Then I feel my back being too light.

“SHIT!”

Exclamations were a bad idea. Why is past me so fucking dumb! Now I can’t stop fucking coughing. GREAT.

“What? What happened? Stay with us, dude, don’t die on me now. Not after you saved my ass more times in one night then I can count with both hands.”

I can’t take this. His rambles are  gonna  be the death of us.  So  I use the hand I wasn’t using to cover up my coughs to cover up his mouth and manage to hold the coughing so I can huff in his direction. He nods in understanding and we reach the entrance hall of the hospital.

“You still didn’t tell me what you screamed your lungs out about.”

“My backpack” I say  huskyly  “I left my fucking backpack in your room”

“Oh, shit”

“Yeah, no shit”

“I could go get it for you”

“Are you crazy?! He’s  gonna  chew your ass!” my throat hurts so baaad.

Dave shrugs “I’m used to it”

“You’re used to getting your ass beat by a ninja who wants to murder you?” I say exasperated. 

He nods at each point I make and then a little while longer.

“Yeah,  preeeeetty  much.”

The engines in my head turn. Like’ yeah, he said he was his brother and what not. I read all that bullshit about his family in the deep web but it’s still so hard to compute. To understand. Maybe the Devils work isn’t so bad and his brother actually wants to live? Would that even be a thing?

Was that maybe training? Because if he ever held Dave with the same  grip  he held my throat, that wasn’t training.

He’s not  gonna  let me go alone, even though I am healthy – if a little rumpled at the edges.

We grab the elevator. Now that we’re not being followed by a creepy  dickeating  psycho that is a thing we could do. I leave Dave to hold the thing in place and head to room 123.

The open door facilitated me reaching to grab the backpack. Upon opening it I check to see if everything is in there. It’s not like I need any more drawbacks of stair stunts in this shithole. Yeah, it was nice and dandy, until  murderspree  village decided I was worthy of joining their SHITTY RANKS. FUCK THAT GUY.

I toss the door shut, ignoring any noise because YES, I was making all of it out of spite – who gives a shit. That fucker jumped willingly off of the 3d floor. Not enough to kill, but who knows? Maybe my luck will cripple him! Who am I kidding?! At this point I’m just trying to lure him in case he did climb up this way so Dave won’t be in the line of shot.

I’ll give it to him. He can hold his ground and avoid being kebabbed and if not for him I would be slashed like a pork being tested for slaughter. Such a pleasing image, me. Not graphic at all.

I look around the room to check if I didn’t forget anything.  Luckily  I do that, cause otherwise my sweater would’ve been forgotten. Dave was shivering when I covered him and the fucker didn’t even have the presence of mind to realize that  _ hey, maybe  _ _ Karkat _ _  will want that back _  - prick. Well, at least he seems like he actually slept instead of just faking it.

Something else picks my interest in the room: the window is open.

When I left this place the window was closed.

Of course, Dave could have opened it but...why would he do that?

Unless he wasn’t the one who did it.

I run back to the elevator and even before I can see anything the sound of clashing metal reaches me.

They’re fighting. Dave is fighting with a fucking fire extinguisher and dodging more than attacking. For the way his brother is keeping his stance, this isn’t an execution or even  purposeful .

He’s playing with him.

Dave is holding his stance and maintaining the elevator open  instead of just jumping right in and leaving me – the dumb fuck.

“HEY, STRIDER, THINK FAST!”

Both idiots look at me while I toss my backpack at Dave. He drops the fire extinguisher, grabs the backpack and the momentum pushes him back inside the elevator. The doors start to close and he looks panicked.

“KARKAT!”

“GO TO THE CAR AND START THE ENGINE”

His brother starts to run to the elevator and sticks his sword between the doors, but when the thing starts to go down, he takes it out and looks at me – this time, impassive.

He shakes his head, disapprovingly. Like I’d give a shit about his opinion. 

What is he? Delusional?

“Get out of my way,  Vantas . You don’t know where you’re sticking your head.”

“Shut up and stop. You weren’t even trying to actually kill him. All that shit was performative! Which I don’t know if that makes you more or less of an asshole!? You don’t  wanna  do this. I’m not blind! You missed the artery by the girth of a hair. You could have killed him. Could have finished him. You don’t  wanna  do any of this.”

To each argument, I gave a step his way. To each step I’ve given, he’s given one back, until his back was against the elevator doors.

“You might not love him” decided to keep going and proving the point I was sure it was  right,  I went on “You might not care for him, Hell! I can’t tell, couldn’t tell. And don’t fucking care what your relationship with him actually is. That is your problem, and I get it.”

“Then stay out of it”

“I can’t. Not while you’re going to keep this mindless persecution.”

He puts a hand to keep his distance from me and I grab at his arm. From the shadows, he looks impassive, but the light hits his side just right enough for me to see the surprise in his eyes.

I keep coming closer.

“What are you doing?”

“ Shhhhh ” I place both arms right below his sholders, holding his arms to his torso and locking my hands together behind his back.

“...”

“Shhhhh”

“Dude, you’re hugging me.”

“Shut up. Don’t make it weird.”

“Dude, I’m the enemy”

“You’re also human and dumb, exactly like your brother, so shut up and stop making it weird”

“A hug is not  gonna  help my killing list get any shorter, dude. I have less heart than that” and yet he places his chin in my head – tall fucker.

This is...well...my power, of sorts. It’s really useless unless I’m really close to the body at hand but when I do, I can manage to – somehow – subdue the anger or fear or fighting spirit of a person.

Soon enough he relaxes enough in my arms to sleep. I drop his body to the floor and think seriously about taking his Japanese Sword with me. I give up on the idea. It could be wired and it would only make him angrier for the next time the encounter happened, although I do hope we can find a way of him and Dave NOT killing each other.

I enter the elevator calmly and reach the entrance hall. I don’t see Dave there, so I go to my car and surely see him there – with the engine running, a look of focus in his face and sitting in the driver seat, ready to run as fast as the car can go.

He sees me and his posture changes to one of  relief.

I enter the car and he  takes  the hands off of the wheel to hug me. The car goes on forward and I screech while pulling the hand break so desperately that at  first  I thought I had broken it.

“I DIDN’T ESCAPE CERTAIN DEATH FOR YOU TO RUN US INTO A TREE!”

“My bad, but dude, how did you escape unharmed? You were just strolling down the lane like you were a male model in Fashion Week showing the latest set of speedos, looking all confident with your wifebeater and sweater tied in your waist and rumpled jeans like the possibility of death wasn’t even a thing that ever crossed your head. I never took you for a fighter, man, although I’m not  gonna  act like I  ain’t  happy you could hold your own shit seeing as you sent me careening towards the elevator with your backpack all hero- ish  like, and the “GET TO THE CAR!” was so like one of my friend’s action movies I didn’t even think about contesting it because when people  do  they end up crippled or dead and this fucking leg just won’t heal fast enough for me to help you. I was feeling so bad for leaving you, but if I had stayed, I’d probs be more a liability then a helping hand, even though you did let me come with you back to get the bag back and I was just so god damn useless. From what happened before I though you would be all like’ running for the heels n’ shit so I did what you told me and went a little further. Never got my license but if we had to run I could at least get us further from this place-”

“YOU DON’T HAVE A LICENSE? GET AWAY FROM THE DRIVER SEAT! *NOW*!”

“Okay, okay” he says, gesturing like a surrendered criminal.

I seat on the driver's seat. 

“why? WHY?! IN HAVEAN OR HELL OR IN BETWEEN WOULD YOU THINK IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO – CONSIDERING YOU DON’T EVEN OWN OR ARE IN POSSESSION OF YOUR DRIVER’S LICENSE – START THE CAR BEYOND JUST TURNING THE KEY?”

“Did you hear anything I said?”

“Put your seatbelt” I scold him.

He does, but rolls his eyes as a smirk graces his presumptuous lips.

“And yes, but I don’t agree. You’re just delusional and that’s all.”

I take the car from the parking lot and start to drive my way home. Ah – home. Sweet home that – oh shit.

I look at him.

We’re going to have to share my house.

“I’m not delusional. And you still didn’t tell me. How  did’you  do to best him? I’ve been trying that shit all my life! Literally have been trained relentlessly to do it,  ya  know? Sword fighting, stance, stealth, survival and all that  jizz . And you’re not even scathed! How skilled are you?”

Oh fuck. Please don’t do what I-

“Can’t you, like’ teach me some move-”

“NO!” I tell him, exasperated.

I step on the breaks with gusto when approaching the traffic sign. My arms outstretched and holding the steering wheel firmly. I barely move. Dave is thrown forward and held in place by the belt. I hear him saying very lowly “I have a newfound appreciation for seat belts”.  Told’ya , fucker.

“C’mon, Kar. Oh, I just realized that your name is pronounced as car-cat, like’ ”

“Yeah! Beep-beep meow. I KNOW.”

“It’s funny cause it’s a Kar driving a car”

I exclaim a loud and agonized sigh.

“ Gimme  a break, I’m trying to make small talk”

“You’re horrible at that. You should just shut up.”

“Okay, then take me as your pupil. I’ll even call you master if that makes up your mind.”

“I’M NOT TAKING YOU AS MY PUPIL AND DON’T YOU EVER DARE CALL ME THAT, EVER! YOU AND I HAVE THE SAME AGE! THERE IS NOTHING I CAN TEACH YOU.”

“And yet you bested my Bro in a fight.  So  you might just have something to teach me...master.”

The sign turns to green and I speed off like I  wanna  rush from the implications of the tone he just used to say that word. But it reaches me like punch of heat to the gut that spreads.

Why? Why  meeee ??

I take a deep breath. And talk to him in a serious voice, trying to sound less sarcastic or exasperated or indignant.

“There is nothing I can teach you. I didn’t best your brother. He’s still alive, still determined to kill you and very much unharmed,” he needs to know the truth  “ and  by the looks and things he said, he’s  gonna  hunt you down until one of you is dead.”

“Then how are you here?”

“I,” can’t tell him. I couldn’t tell anyone, not even TZ. Never confirmed her, but the undeniability proved her right.  Sollux  is psychic – which is even weirder – and figured it out on his own. But he wouldn’t understand and, as much as we’ve been through hell watching each other's backs, our friendship doesn’t go that far “convinced him to let me go”

“You talked to him?”

“More like monologued, really"

“That sounds like him, yeah-” Dave was pensive while speaking “what did you tell him?”

“I tried to point that, while I was here, and he couldn’t kill me, you could keep using me as your shield”

“And?”

“He said he would just find a way to kill me too” I lied.

We’re wet and he is wearing dirty and clingy socks – for what I can see from my periphery view.  So  I turn the heater.

“You should probably take your socks off”

“Uhm? Now?”

“Yeah. It’ll help your feet to dry faster.”

“What’s the point if the rest is still going to be wet?”

“Well, there is one piece of clothing of yours that’s not wet yet” I tell him remembering something.

“What? Because I look like a hooker’s pussy after an afternoon making mad buck with Hollywood actors with less than 40.”

“You would totally bottom for Robert Downey Junior” I tell him matter-of-fact.

“I would NOT, but I would totally try and be his bro”

“Robert Downey, Chris  Hemsworth  or Chris Evans?”

“Dude, are you a Marvel fan?”

“Yeah?  Kinda . Netflix is a very fucking present thing in my life.”

“None”

“You can’t just not choose, that’s not how the game works, fuckface”

“None, I’d choose Tom Holland over any of those guys any day. Have you seen that  ASS”

“You objectifying ASSHOLE! Now I’m seriously rethinking giving that to you-”

“Wait. Giving me what?” he asks suddenly turning to me.

“Remember I said I would give your dumb eyewear back if you weren’t a fucking insufferable prick at all times?”

“Yeah, I do, but honestly I don’t have were to put them, right now, and I can’t wear them with a missing leg, although it would be so fucking awesome to put a peg leg on my shades and he’d be like’ all like “I’m the sickest pirate this side of the sea, mate” and I’d be like “these be my shades  yo ” all proud n’ shit cause-”

I’m not even  gonna  bother to exert myself at this point. If he wants to listen, he will.

“They’re not broken anymore”

He stops, dead on his tracks, a thousand different sentiments cross his face and he  asks  “You fixed them?” His voice was full of some middle ground between gratitude and idolized praise, maybe a little choked on some sense of relief, and fuck his face was so fucking vulnerable I felt my blood run hot underneath the skin of my face. I looked back to the road, avoiding eye contact.

“They’re in the bag”

Looking around I realized we were getting to my place. Dave scrambled to get the bag, like a child opening a Christmas present. I got to my garage just in time to see him opening the case.

After the lid got opened, he stopped for a moment, looking at them and understanding they weren’t bits and pieces any longer. He swallowed a lump and reached to take them, being ever carful with the lenses. I unbuckled my belt.

“I took them to an ophthalmologist clinic, because I didn’t know if you had bad eyesight or not. I told them you had red eyes, so they made an extra strong set of lenses to protect them from the sun. I  kinda  lied and told them you did sports too, so among other things, these lenses work like car glass – from what I picked up – if you take a hit it’s going to have to be a really strong hit for them to break, and if they do, it’s not  gonna  shard everywhere like last time. But even after everything I still think they look like they were designed for women and are of horrid taste.”

His lower lip is pouting a bit, like he wants to cry. Oh my god, I ruined it. I ruined his most prized possession.

“If, If you don’t like it we can-”

“No! It’s perfect, it’s just that-” he hides his eyes behind his arm and is actually hiccupping now “there’s something in my eye, is all” then he sniffs very profoundly “this is the best gift you could ever give me and – and I can never *hiccup* repay you *sniff* I thought you were only going to give it back but, heh, you gave it back on steroids, basically,  heheh  – this shit’s basically OP now and-” his eyes start to water again and he goes to clear the tears again “god damned eye sand!”

This is so pathetic. I wish he would just cry already. At least it wouldn’t be this hefty dosage of bullshit that I’m listening about “a cist in my eye” and shit.

I unbuckle his  belt,  he swallows a lump on his throat and removes the rest of it. “Time to go?”  he asks trying to pull it together.

It’s selfish, in a way, to draw out a person's feelings like this, but he’s literally choking and constipating in them.

I gently guide his arm away from his face, and place my hand there, wiping a tear from his cheek. He looks at it, finding it a weird movement – and I get it. If it was me to  myself  I’d feel even weirder and maybe slightly disgusted – but let’s me touch his face, and his hand flies up to meet my wrist.

“ Shhhhhh ”

His eyes fill and he tries to hold them, but there are so many they spill, and when they do, his hand goes from my wrist to my hand-

And he cries. For real.

I  shoosh  him, until there are no more tears to shed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holly shit.  
> I don't know if this can be considered fluff, but I tried?  
> Also, I need to know, Is Dave to out of character?  
> One more thing: guys, please tell me your fav parts so far!   
> Not just from this chapter, all chapters are valid!  
> Hope you guys are liking it so far - I have no idea were I'm taking thiiiis!  
> (secretly, im worried about getting too out there and leaving plot holes everywhere. If you guys eventually find a plot hole, warn me, but ignore it, cause nothing if this has been planned in advance and i'm just posting it as I write)


	10. Dave

Shame welled up my insides  while climbing up the stairs.

I shouldn’t have let him see me so frail. I couldn’t  even  help him with anything at all  while at the hospital and got all fucking emotional about the shades.

He had them fixed! He could have thrown them in the trash and bought a new pair, he could not have done nothing at all and he spent his money to have them fixed and boosted.

Disgusting as I am right  now,  I don’t even have the guts to put them in my face.

I swear they look like they shine. And this is, hands down, the best present someone ever gave me – after the original,  cause  this is a reformed present. It even makes it better cause it’s like John and  Karkat  had decided to join forces to make me the most badass piece of shit in America.

My eyes hurt and I don’t know if it’s cause of the constant light exposure or because I was crying so hard.

Oh gosh, that was so fucking lame. I  wanna  hide my head between my hands and forget that ever happened. How can I ever repay him? He’s even letting me stay. How nice can someone be? You did enough for me  already,  man. 

Karkat  opened the door that was unlocked and turned on the lights.

He forgot to lock his door before going out? I just shrug  cause  that wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that happened tonight.

He goes inside and removes his shoes, placing them in a shoe rack right beside the door. 

“Take those fucking things off,” he points to my socks “and throw them into the trash can. It’s in the kitchen. Then go take a shower. I’ll show you your room for you to do that.”

“My room? Isn’t this like’ a sleeping in the couch  kinda  thing?”

“I don’t know how much time I’m  gonna  be stranded with you. If every morning I wake up to your ugly mug slobbering all over my couch, I’m seriously going to lose my shit. So yeah, I’m lending you a room with a bathroom attached to it. Let’s try to avoid-” then he makes a generic gesture to the front of  his  torso.

It takes a moment but my brain clicks – he’s referencing the time he saw my ass. We don’t talk about that. That was weird. But it happened so we sort of acknowledge it. Sort of. My face heats up at the memory and with the shades in hand I’m seriously considering putting them on, but then I remember I’m gross with rain and mud and sweat and  they’re  so awesome!  They deserve  me in nothing less than Prime Strider Form.

I’m  gonna  save the pleasure of putting them on for a later date.

I pu ll  my shit together and give Karkat a thumbs up.

I take the soiled socks off and trash them. They served well. May you rest in peace , pair .

He takes me upstairs. It’s a corridor with doors on both sides. Three on the left, two on the right and one in the back. There’s also a trap door to an Atrium, just like my old apartment. The first door, right in front of the stairs has a furniture with fake flowers in an old vase.

Karkat  knocks that door twice.

“This is my room. I always leave the door open unless I’m doing something that I need privacy. Try not to interrupt me, okay?”

“Got it”

“You can take any of the two rooms in the left. They both have access to a bathroom right in the middle. You’re not sharing the house with anyone else, so don’t worry about anyone busting inside that bathroom. I never use  it,  I have my own in separate. But I'm not your fucking maid. If you want something done, do it yourself. I’m not changing your bed sheets if you enroll in intercourse related activities. You’re the one to take it off AND wash it. Same in the bathroom. Also, I don’t kill spiders, cockroaches, flies or any other small fauna that may have populated the area while you were there. Get a fucking broom and deal with it. The first door on the right is a Broom Closet. I know it doesn’t look like it but it’s stocked. Brooms, rags, detergent, chlorine and other general cleaning materials. If you get something dirty, you clean it. If I get wrappers of candy around the house, I WILL THROW YOU OUT. The WIFI password is  _ gofuckyourself _ _ ,  _ all together, all in caps. Any questions?”

“A couple. What are the last two doors you didn’t mention?” 

“The one in the end of the hallway is the Master Bedroom. I could use it but I think it’s too big. I like things cozy and that room-” he lingers in a memory with fond and nostalgic eyes “reminds me of someone”

“Okay, so it’s an out-of-limits kind of shit.”

“To use – yes. But I can show you what’s inside so you won’t stay like a little  pricky  child imagining there’s a dragon inside the room or some absurd shit of the sort.”

“What  abou  the other door?”

“It’s a  fuckass  empty room.”

I raise an eyebrow. He sighs.

“I emptied it. There was nothing in there usable anymore and everything that was, I moved into other rooms.”

“Okay. What’s up with the trap door?” 

“Actually, this one I’ll show you. It’s very cool what I have up there!” he tells me sporting a half smile “But only after you’re clean. I’ll give you a tour after that. But you have to stop sporting the musk of sweat and rotten fish first and, honestly, I fucking need that too” his right eye twitches a bit but he recomposes “Something else?”

“Last one. You keep everything always open. Why is your basement locked?”

His eyes open wider at the mention of the basement and I have a bad sensation in my gut.

“The basement is not part of our area of habitation. It’s been rented.” he says looking down to the right.

He’s lying.

The shades weight heavy in my hands.

His arms are crossed, but he’s hunching, coiled in a sense.

Fearful. Uncomfortable.

Whatever it is that he’s locking down there, is there cause his afraid of it.

Suddenly I wish I had my sword and, for a weird change of pace, not to protect myself.

“Go. I need to go too. Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom already. Two clean towels and all that. You can wear whatever’s in the wardrobe. I don’t give a shit. But I’m not doing your laundry. The laundry room is behind the kitchen. There’s a slide door that takes to it on the left.”

Then he left me to my own devices.

I showered and placed the shades. They felt like heaven. The plastic thingies for the nose were new and soft. The lenses didn’t have a single scratch and were totally clean. They fit like a glove and the darkness of the shades adjusted with the amount of light I was subdued to.

They were heavenly. I was in love with them. And the frames were still the ones from Ben Stiller. Is this happiness?

 When I go to search for him, I find him in his room, using the computer.

I need to get my shit back. I wonder if Bro threw them all away cause he’s expecting me to die or run, or has everything exactly like I left to use as bait.

Oh shit. I need to check my b an k account.

“Hey, dude, can I use your pc,  real  quick?”

“What for?”

“Relax. I’m not some horny teen that’s going to troll you by looking  up  porn of tentacles to leave in your history for your dad to find or your friends to doubt your moral integrity. I just need to check my ba n k account.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” he retorts skeptical.

I grab his pc and while  putting the specifics to access my  account I seriously consider playing the moans of some chick having sex, just to poke him.

This idea dies pretty quick and my playfulness is replaced with worry.

I enter my account and see the money, but it’s said the account is suspended. I can’t move that money.

I open another tab quickly. Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff. Can I access my comic?

It’s out of the air.

I try again.

Same result.

Again.

  1. Page not found.



I access my Sound Cloud.

It’s been erased.

...All my songs...All my work... I can’t breathe.

If he’s erased my life’s work. If he’s erasing me. What can I do?

My throat is clogged. Nothing passes by. I can’t see straight.

Is this a panic attack?

“Dave. Dave! DAVE!”

I look at him.

“Deep breaths”

My heart hurts so bad, like its being pierced , like a cramp.  I can’t take deep breaths. When I do, it hurts.

I’m taking tiny breaths but there isn’t enough oxygen. I’m dying.

We’re  panicking.

I lie down trying to ease the pressure and breathe deeper, but my chest just has this impossible pain. My breath is ragged and insufficient and I’m seriously  asphyxiating .

Karkat  seats beside me and turns me upwards, facing the ceiling.

And he fucking performs CPR in me.

My chest hurts like a screaming mandragora after being removed from the earth but the relief of having oxygen is so  good  I wouldn’t be surprised if I was sporting a boner.

He takes his mouth from mine and I exhale.

And then I inhale deep.

Holy shit. Oxygen. 

“What the fuck just happened?” he demands.

“Panic attack.”

“That much I got. I’m not blind , shit head . What originated it ? ”

I sit.

“He blocked transactions from my account on the bank. He took my source of income out of the air. He’s probably holding my turntables hostage along with my cellphone and computer. My friends probably already think I’m dead and buried and having mad hell parties with the Devil, surrounded by sweet and big boobed  succubi  while watching two guys wrestle and making  mad  buck with other gentleman's gambling habits.”

“That’s it? I can solve all that with two calls you stupid  retarded maddening  idiot ! ”  he  tell  me with a face like he wants to bite my face off.

“Did you not understand that I’m stuck?”

He sighs  with exasperation very loudly  and facepalms.

“Give me a moment”

He takes his phone, calls someone and turns  the  pc to himself.

“Hey, spider bitch. I need you and TZ to rob a bank.”

Wait. What?

“Why the fuck  are  you laughing? No, no, TZ is actually  gonna  side with you on this one. Don’t worry. You’re robbing the money back, but you’re still going to have to break into a bank.”

Is he serious?

“The account is as follows, write it down”

He tells the person on the phone my bank account.

“How much? 55.000 dollars.”

He listens for a while and breaks into sarcastic laughter.

“Not a fucking penny, bitch. You owe me forever for the basement thing.”

He listens a little.

“Yeah,  Terezi  paid me back. You didn’t. If she doesn’t want to go with you that’s your problem. This is me charging that favor. And it costs 55.000 dollars.”

I listen to a loud “ Tsck . Fuck you,  Vantas .”

“How long for you to get that?”

It was a female voice.

“ Ain ’ t  5 days a little too fucking much for, and I quote “The best earth pirate” huh?”  the tone is sardonic.

Is he making fun of her?

“3 days. You have 3 days.” and then he turns off on her.

“Dude, you’re hiring someone to rob a bank? That’s crazy. I’ll just work in a fucking McDonalds to pay the bills or whatever.”

“Shut up” he says dialing another number.

“No, dude, if you do  that  we’re just going to be poking him. He’s  gonna  come for you” I try to argue.

He puts the phone in his ear “Hey, asshole, I need something done now. Access Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff.”

I laugh,  cause  no one can beat Bro at  encryption .

“Yeah, asshole, I know the site is off the air. I need you to put it back up. It doesn’t matter the comic is shit. I need that site in the air.”

Hah. A hater.  Love’em .

“Why do I need to – look, it’s none of your business, but if you want to know, I hate the comic just as much as the author and I need to decompress, OKAY? Now put the thing back on so I can shit on it like it deserves.”

He looks at me and sends me middle finger. Just as sport, I send him a heart back with a straight face. Like I said: haters,  love’em .

Not that I love him, just the fact he hates the comic. That’s all.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll send you a print of the rant, whatever. Night, Sol.”

He makes one last call, and even if it’s him, he’s much more subdued when speaking with this person. For the voice I assume it’s a girl. I get closer to listen in.

“Hey, ‘Radia, I have a super cool thing for you to see in my backward – it's a grave”

“Seriously? Wow! You do have my attention. That seems so cool.”

“I know exactly where it is.  Wanna  pass by?”

“I’m on your roof”

“HOLLY SHIT, WOMAN, WARN ME FIRST! I’M IN MY FUCKING PAJAMAS!” this one gets me by surprise too.

“HAHAHA. Don’t worry, me too.”

Suddenly,  Karkat  starts to levitate. He turns his phone off and I grab his legs, trying to get him to stop floating.

I get lifted together instead. The window is open and we float right through it, headed to the roof. From his back I see a girl our age, raven hair floating against gravity. White eyes with no pupils or irises and in a red dress that goes to her ankles. Her smile is so radiant and plastic that she looks like a ghost. She’s floating.

“I didn’t know we would have company! And such gloomy one too! If you had warned I would dress to occasion, Karkat!”

“What? You mean me?”

“Obviously! Your Brother bugs me a lot, you know.”

“ Aradia , what the fuck are you talking about? His brother is alive!”

“Oh. Then maybe this folk is from the future. Shush it, Dirk, I can tell spoilers if I want.” She tells the nothingness.

Karkat  gives me a hurt look and I shake my head. I wouldn’t kill  him.  I told him. But if he dies then – who did it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just complicating myself ain't I?  
> Why am I putting spoilers into this.  
> How can I even have spoilers about this shit?  
> ahahahahaha - I'm digging the grave to my own plot - ahahahahahaha
> 
> Tell me your favorite part, dudes.   
> And I hope ya'll enjoy this train wreck.  
> hahahahaha.


	11. Karkat

People seriously need to start telling me they’re gonna be popping up at my place, this is getting ridiculous. 

Dave is floating with Aradia’s Telekinesis like he was meant to be floating his whole life – the fly fucker. 

We get to the dug site and she drops me ass first in the ground like I’m a hefty sack of rotten potatoes. Dave is placed in the ground like an angel descending from heaven who is skeptical about humanity – although if I was an angel, I would have a reaction from that to a worse one. 

Let’s not dwell on the fact I compared him to an angel, there are more important things to be dealt with, okay? Keep your head on the game. 

Aradia is fangirling so hard about an open grave that I wonder why I didn’t invite her here before. 

“Karkat! This is so deep!” 

“That’s what one edgy teen said to another” Dave says. 

I roll my eyes and Aradia laughs like that was a funny joke. 

“Please, don’t indulge him. He's never going to shut up if you do.” 

“That’s what a divorced woman said about her ex-husbands antlers at a tea party” 

Aradia laughs so hard she lies at the bottom of the grave. 

“UUUUUURGH” I exclaim and face palm. 

“Hey, query: if we fucked on the edge of a grave would that make us double-edged teens?” 

“I just know one thing for sure, none of that would ever make you the sharpest tool in the shed” I answer him. 

Aradia screams in agonizing glee. Dave smirks with his teeth to show, trying to hold it in and failing. The other side of his mouth is basically twitching. It’s pitiful. Just do it, dude, laughing is no crime. I refuse to have to touch you every 15 seconds to make you be a normal human being. Fuck that. 

Me and Dave sit in opposing edges of the grave. 

“I thing we’ve never been properly introduced, have we?” She tells him “My name’s Aradia Megido. You’re Dave, right?” 

He nods and counters “How d’you know that? Karkat didn’t say my name.” 

“Your brother doesn’t shut up about how gullible you are and keeps telling me to stop being such a nosy broad cause I don’t ever take care of only my affairs.” 

I still don’t believe that guy dies eventually. 

“So yeah, I learned a lot about you and about Karkat and about a whole bunch of other people when I was dead.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“Oh yeah! Did he get to meet Vriska?” she asks me. I shake my head and explain. 

“It’s the spider bitch I sent to rob the bank” 

“She killed me, but The Dead Ones said I wasn’t supposed to be dead yet, so with a lot of his help” she points at me “I got brought back to life. It was a whole adventure!” 

“Don’t remember me” I tell her. 

It involved a lot of grim shit, too many hours communing with the dead in my basement, a goat sacrifice and a lot of tears. Too many tears.  

“Karkat can ask me whatever he wants and I can never bring myself to say no ‘cause I owe him my life – literally. HAHAHAHAHA” 

“That’s not how-” 

“I know how you feel” Dave cuts me. 

“Not you too” I tell him. 

“You did save my life. More than once.” 

“Well...Welcome to the club!” she tells him. 

“There is no club. My ass gets saved just as much and- I didn’t really do anything in any of your cases” I say looking at the bottom of the grave where I found Dave a week ago. Then I look at the forest and remember Sollux bringing the crisped body of Aradia in his arms, desperate “you got saved by a bunch of screaming, bothersome and gruesome ghosts” I say pointing at Aradia “ and your ass got saved by very skilled doctors who have been through years of college and postgrad” I say pointedly looking at Dave, right at his sunglasses “with that all out of the way I will admit I was trying to soften you up to ask for a favor” I tell Aradia, cutting to the chase. 

“I knew. Don’t worry. It did work, though, HAHAHA!” 

“I need you to pop by the house of this jackass and haul some stuff back to the empty room. Tell her what you need” I tell him “and don’t forget anything, cause I’m not putting her into the spot again if you forget anything.” 

“Obviously.” 

He tells her his prized possessions: turntables, wacon, pc, cellphone and, last but not least – even because he did get really ashamed of asking her this last one, so much so, his face became acutely red even under the glasses – his drawer of briefs. Me and Aradia start to snicker. 

“You know what, forget I said that last one. Let’s erase it like a polynomial failure in a math test from senior year. Let’s scratch that like a record in a rap off. Let’s press some mad ctrl Z to forget that ever happened. Get a complete clean slate. Thing whiter than my ass.” 

“Holy shit, that’s white” 

And then I realize that came from my mouth. Dave turns into a tomato. 

“I mean, he’s white, dude is almost albino” 

“Not almost, I’m totally an albino,” he says pointing at his own arm “I almost glow on the sun, like a fucking twilight vampire” 

Aradia is laughing her ass off at our expense and Dave is absolutely going to grill me. I can feel his gaze burning in my neck. Or maybe that’s just my own blush creeping up on it. But suddenly the air changes. He remembers something and turns to ‘Radia. 

“There is one last thing, and it’s almost as important as the turntables if not more. It’s a half sword that I leave right above my bed. It’s monochromatic and yeah, the blade is broken, but that’s just it. There is no other half. Bring it with the rest.” 

She nods wiping a tear from her laughter fit. Dave is dead serious about the half sword thing. I don’t like where this is going. His brother is dead in the future, he’s getting a sword – even if it’s a half sword. I wouldn’t be surprised if he started training with broom sticks of something of the sort. If he does, I’ll start to sing “Make a man out of you” just to bug him, and bad. I’ll sing it purposefully bad and out of tune with all the parts out of order. It will kill me, but I swear I fucking will. 

Aradia leaves us back at the porch of my house and goes off to fuck butt crack no-one-cares. She does creepy shit at night like talk to the dead and what-not. No one cares as long as she’s happy – which she always seems to be. 

Dave is looking me square in the face with an impassive expression and crossed arms. 

I suck a breath through gritted teeth and just shoot “It escaped, I didn’t really think about it, okay!? I fucked up because I’m just that much of a fuck up, but it’s just a very graphic image, alright? I’m a hyperbolic fuck and you are a walking sack of hyperboles walking around in douche swag.” 

“We don’t talk about that” he scolds shaking his head side to side. 

“I KNOW, OKAY? I FUCKED UP! BUT IT WAS TRAUMATIZING, ALRIGHT!? THAT SHIT’S LIKE THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON, AS IS TO SAY A FUCKED UP PART THAT NEVER GOT TO SEE THE SUNLIGHT A DAY OF IT’S MISERABLE IMPRISIONED LIFE!” 

He is never, and I repeat, he is NEVER EVER *EVER* going to know how much I think they looked like a pair of pearls taken right out of a jewelry catalog, or how badly I would *totally* motorboat’em, kiss’em, bite’em - GET IT TOGETHER YOU FILTHY PIECE OF STEAMING GARBAGE! 

“If my ass’s that bad, give me a reference point.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about, Strider?” 

“Show me your ass.” 

The world turned to mute and we stood there staring at each other like a pair of statues. I start to giggle nervously – he has to be joking. It’s a fucking prank, there’s no other fucking way. But he doesn’t laugh or emote at all. 

“You can laugh now, haha, the joke’s over, Strider” 

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” 

“What do you have to gain from that? It’s stupid.” 

“If it’s so stupid why don’t you just show me and we move past this?” 

“I’m not showing you my ass, go fuck yourself with a cactae specimen.” 

“I have the acquired right to see your ass. This is supposed to be quid pro quo. You don’t get to spill beans about my ass around like I’m some bottom fag because you accidently saw it once. If its mutual you’re gonna think twice before saying shit again.” 

“Or you’re going to look more like a homo, cause then not only one guy saw your ass but you’ve seen the ass of a guy. You see how that sounds dumb?” 

I try to argue, but he’s not listening. 

“This is the last time I’m going to ask nicely.” he cracks his fingers, shoulders and neck. “Show me your ass.” 

“Strider, fuck off, I’m *not* showing you my ass” 

“I warned you” he says and jumps trying to grab my torso. I hop scotch him by his shoulder and put the couch between us.  

“Karkat, this isn’t fair and you know it!” 

“This, this happening right here, this is abuse” I argue “It’s a rape attempt!” 

He walks right, I walk left. We’re both almost crouching. He walks left, I walk right. We try to trick the other over where we’re really going. He parkours the couch and I put the kitchen island between us. 

“If this is a rape attempt what do you call the hospital thing?” 

“A series of misfortunate events!” 

“Misfortunate events my ass!” 

“EXACTLY!” I answer and his jaw tightens. 

“Show me your ass, Vantas” 

“NEVER!” 

We circle the island. He decides to try and catch me by circling right and I take the left, going back to the living room and B-lining for the stairs. I hear him approaching, climbing the stairs right behind me. 

“C’mon, dude, you’re making this way weirder than it needs to be” he tries to argue with me, like he thinks anything he says will change my mind – deluded fucking prick “It’d be like just two dudes sharing the changing room before some big game league. You think the guys that play baseball are thinking about how weird they’re gonna be when changing in the locker with their other bros?” 

“THAT’S CAUSE THEY ARE POINTEDLY *NOT* LOOKING!” 

He grabs the vase from the table beside my door and tosses. I grab it and see him lunging my way. I jump right above him, place my feet at his back and jump forward. 

I place the vase back. 

“You have some moves, I’ll give you that”  

He should see me in bed – WHY DID I JUST THINK THAT??? 

AHHHHHH. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MY BRAIN TODAY? 

Yeaaaah, he’s hot, SO WHAT? It’s not like he’s not going to break your heart if he ever decides he want’s something with you – which is a laughable thought in itself. And that sentence would be even more laughable seeing as I have no sex skill, appeal and don’t know the drill – why the fuck am I rapping? 

He advances trying to grab my shoulders. I duck and go left. I run to his room, opening the door very thankful he didn’t lock it. 

“Give up, Strider! I’m not showing you anything” It’s for your own sanity. 

“Ya’know how crypts and tombs are full of traps to keep people away from treasure? Or how, in videogames and movies, the more enemies the closer to either the treasure or the boss?” To each argument he gave a step my way and I gave a step back, my back touching the bathroom door. My hand flies to the handle and I open it without having to look. 

“ARE YOU SAYING MY ASS IS LOOT? ARE YOU INSANE?” 

Shit, I am kinda cornered. The back door of the bathroom is locked – and no, that is *not* innuendo. He enters the bathroom and I know I’m fucked. NOT INNUENDO, AGAIN. His arms are crossed and there’s a smirk in those presumptuous lips. Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhit. 

That is an inhuman jump from the guy who was absolutely losing his mind to get a shot. 

He turns his finger telling me to turn around and it’s  _insanely_ hot, but no. I have more restraint than that. My face is burning so hot that I think I’m gonna explode – but I refuse to believe it’s for any other feeling other than skull-cracking fury. 

“The only way you’re ever seeing my ass is in your dreams!” 

“Not if I can avoid” he spreads his arms covering the whole length of the bathroom. 

“DO YOU LISTEN TO YOURSELF?” 

The only way I'm leaving this place is through him. Fucking doors in this tight space... 

At least my slips usually happen inside my head. 

“I try not to, or else I’ll probs fall in love with my own voice” 

I could too, if it was moaning my name – AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! HOW PENT UP AM I? After this is over I’m locking myself in my bedroom and dealing with this so hard things down there are gonna get chaffed and calloused. 

And then I’m never gonna think about it ever again. 

I do get out of there after some brawling and then hide in the empty room. Dave passes straight by and heads to my Dad’s room which I find kind of weird. He takes some time in there and I go check. 

When I look past the door, he’s looking at my family picture from when I was 4. I think we were at the local park, me and Dad. I look past his shoulder and yeah, it’s exactly that one. 

“One of the few photos in existence where I’m not scowling” I tell him. 

“This used to be your father’s bedroom?” 

“Yeah” I say looking around at the king-size bed, wardrobe and office desk. This place is dusty. I need to remember to clean it later “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” He places the photo back and after he leaves, I close the door. 

Is the works of a sixth sense that I like the fact I have, but not how I acquired it. I duck and his arms pass right by my head. I let my body fall backward and take us both to the ground and backflip from his stomach up. When standing he just looks at me with the world known expression of  _how did you do that??_  

While he gets up I dawn the atrium door. It’s the last and best place to hide. It’s also the prettiest place in the house – in my opinion. 

When Dave climbs to the Atrium the lights are still all turned off. I let them like that – makes it easier to hide behind the armchairs and shelves. He turns the lights on and I listen his breath catch. 

“It’s a library” he whispers. 

I know. I assembled it. Awesome, right? 

“A jukebox?!” he exclaims and I turn to watch. 

His mouth is agape and his hands hover over the whole thing like it’s Obama and he wants to hug the guy and doesn’t know if he will be allowed or if that will be weird or some dumb shit of the sort. 

And then a wicked smirk splays it was in his face. 

He starts punching something in the jukebox and I can’t see exactly what he’s doing. 

And then- 

WHOM WHOM, What’s new pussycat!? 

No. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. HE DIDN’T. 

“YOU DIDN’T JUST PUNCH 21 ITERATIONS OF WHAT’S NEW PUSSYCAT IN MY JUKEBOX, CAUSE IF YOU DID I WILL FORCE FEED YOU HORSE SHIT FOR THE REST OF YOUR MISERABLE LIFE” 

“You forgot the  _one_  It’s not unusual”  

He is so fucking conceited I wanna bite his head off and give it to the wolves. 

I unplug the jukebox. 

“You ruined it. I hope you’re happy.” 

“I’ll be happy when I see your ass” He says reclining in the ground with that insufferable smirk. 

“I hope you can live being miserable, then” I tell him headed to the hatch. 

I feel a tug at the back of my calves and that makes me fall. 

And then I feel- 

A windy feeling- 

In my butt cheeks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys... did I go to heavy on the fanservice ?? XD  
> Also: you guys want smut? Cause I wasn't intending on putting it on, but this is going down some smutty ways...  
> I hope this chapter makes people laugh as much as It made me laugh when writing it.  
> Hope ya'll enjoy.


	12. Dave

After I ran all over the fucking house trying to prove my  point,  I went to take a cold shower.

It has nothing to do with the fact that I can still kinda feel the warmth of his mouth all over my mouth. That’s  gotta  be trauma speaking right there – that shit was CPR - I was dying in my own lame and fucked up asthmatic desperation and he was just trying to calm me down. Pull me from the asphyxiation pit I was going down on.

It was the pull back to life and the high stakes of shit. That’s why mouth feels like it’s imprinted. 

That’s all. It’s going to fade.

But holly shit,  Vantas  ass is no laughing stock, like’ god fucking damnit – that shit’s imprinted forever in the back of my eyelids. That ass be more tight than Kit Harrington’s and looks softer and perkier than Tom Holland’s. If he ever sat in my face I wouldn’t be disappointed.

I literally listen a record scratch inside my head.

Wait. WHAT?

Well, obviously I wouldn’t be disappointed. I’d be worried. Why would his ass ever be in my  face?

I step out of the shower and the thoughts about that ass overflow my head. I immediately step inside the shower again. And crouch putting my hands in my jaw. I have to think.

Why am I freaking out about this? Girls have asses as well. I don’t freak out thinking about Jade’s ass and she’s more of a bro when it’s time to get down to business then most of my male friends – except John. John is the ultimate bro.

I have shared a locker room with John before.

Oh, shit.  Karkat  was right. We keep the “eyes up here” rule and pretty much never look down belly button level and into  crotchland . But that’s cause there’s a very good chance we could get a glimpse of something other than ass.

Cause- chicks have asses – and it’s perfectly fine and dandy to appreciate  chicks  asses – but, dudes also have asses and they are made of the same things, so why wouldn’t it be okay to appreciate dudes asses?

Satisfied with my breakthrough I stand and actually leave the shower to go to sleep.

The next day I wake and go to get breakfast. I open the fridge and step backwards waiting for a bunch of shitty swords to fall but, when they don’t I facepalm – you're not home anymore. The fridge is full of what it was supposed to be full of: food. I grab something to just toss in the microwave and eat and see  Karkat  actually put my name on a plate.

He wouldn’t be here by this time. His door was open and he wasn’t inside. His shoes are missing with his backpack. He probs went to class.

I need to deal with the Bro thing fast. Is literally making me lose bouts of classes. I can literally choose where I want to go, what college I want to go to, and I can’t go sign the papers because I need the fucking account with the money saved for my college. And it’s in his name because he is my legal guardian. 

The door opens suddenly. I grab a knife and throw it at the direction of the door. 

It’s  Aradia , and she stops the knife a centimeter away from her nose with her freaky psychic powers that I'm very glad she had, or else I would have killed someone.

I need to tune it down with the ninja shit.

She gives me smile.

“Hey, Dave! I brought your stuff!”

“What happened with, uh, knocking? Have you ever heard that song- Knocking on Heavens Door?”

“ Karkat  always leaves the door open. It’s basically his rule” she shrugs “and are you implying this place is heaven?” and enters the premises, giving me the knife back.

“That makes no sense. Shit’s insane. Dude’s basically asking to be robbed blind, but I can lock my door, so who gives a damn. I’m staying here on favor so what does my opinion count?” I put the knife back at the rack and put the plate in the microwave. The note with my name has something on the back.

ARADIA IS GOING TO PASS BY. DON’T BE A DICK. DON’T FINISH THE ORANGE JUICE. DON’T LOCK THE DOOR.

“And , yeah. Course this place be heaven. I'm here.”  It comes out  Boisterous, cocky and dignified. 

It was supposed to be a joke but she doesn’t crack a smile, just keeps the creepy grin and the floating ghostly presence.

“I’m going to leave your things in the empty room, alright?”

“Yeah.”

At least, if everything goes to shit, I can still work.

Every important or expensive possession I had was floating right behind her up the stairs to the second floor. Ah, I missed my turntables.

I was going to gloat over them for hours after she left. There’s no one in the house anyway.

“Hey” I call her and she turns after leaving my stuff in the ground “Thanks. For realz.”

“Don’t worry. But wow, your house had some freaky shit – though I do have to say I was very impressed with your collection of dead things! It was fascinating.”

“Oh. You saw that. It’s mostly crows”

She gives me my cellphone in hands.

“You should probably put it to charge. You’re going to need it soon.”

“Oh yeah. I probably should. There’s a  shitton  of shit in here that I could use to cook some jams. And I should probs message my friends. They must think I’m already dead and all that drama.”

“I’m going to class now, but if you need anything,  Karkat  can give you my  chumhandle .”

“Okay. Cool. See you when I see you- I guess.”

“That won’t take that long to happen.” She floats off of the ground and leaves.

When she is on the other side of the front door, she turns and gives me a warn.

“And you probably should listen to  Karkat  and not lock the door. You should probably try to not throw knifes at people as well since I’m giving you tips.”

“In my defense, you came flying which means you had no footsteps. The door just opened and most people lock it. I’m being persecuted by a ninja. I had good reasons to throw knives around.”

She giggles at my points.

“Try to tune the ninja moves down, though. You  a re more restrained than that. Bye, Dave.”

I wave to her as she leaves and then go upstairs to se t  my shit straight. My  i phone and Pc are charging in my room. The turntables won’t fit there, so I just leave’em in the empty room. And then I grab my sword.

Even if it’s a broken piece of shit, it’s still the most recomforting piece of shit in existence.

When the turntables are set, I grab the hilt of the sword and remember I forgot my food in the microwave, so I go down there with it in hand –  kinda  forgot it was there – to grab the food.

Between cold bites of some actually decent meal I can’t stop staring at the basement door. I finish the thing, leave the pla t e inside the sink and face the basement.

He could have gone this way when I was chasing him but it didn’t even seem to cross his mind. It’s like this door is forgotten. I place my hand in it – It's just a regular as fuck door. Wood and polish and a little window in head level with short curtains that are drawn.

I  grab the sword,  unlock it and open the door. More stairs and a black hole of darkness as the descend presents itself. Down there, I turn the lights on.

It’s just a regular basement. The floor is concrete. The walls have old looking cupboards attached to both, ceiling and ground. Underneath the stairs are some boxes  with lids nailed shut, but in between the cracks I can see paper poking through . To the furthest end there’s a tiny freezer. The only thing that is unusual about this place is the unyielding smell of bleach. This shit smelled cleaner than the whole hospital. Like it was supposed to be sterile or something.

I open the freezer expecting to find beers or vodka or some secret stash of really bad soy milk.

I find  blood pouches instead. They’re marked with the types. Not many O- and way too many A+. There are tiny locked test tubes with no marks.

The squeak of the door on the upper floor hits my ears.

I wasn’t supposed to be down here.

I close everything and grab my sword, running up the stairs two at a time. When upstairs I recline, covering the vision of the door with my body.  Karkat  closes the door with his foot , too busy looking down with tiredness written all over his face .

“I found a bunch of useless shit about your family these past few weeks. I THINK I might have finally found something useful about them. ” He shakes a stack of papers “ But as I read these conversations, I thought that maybe they were getting a little too personal so I took the initiative of printing them for you to read them and maybe choose what I should or not know”

Now I feel bad. I was literally snooping around his shit in the basement.

Things he made sure to tell me not to go look.

And that had blood among them and a reek of bleach.

I have to be understanding this all wrong. There’s no way he’s a creep or a psycho or something like that but, I can’t ignore the fact he does know how to fight and dodge , though . Maybe it’s all for him cause he gets hurt a lot? But if that was the case there wouldn’t be so many different types of it.

Or unmarked types. In really low  amounts .

“Dave?” He called.

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t  answer .”

“Oh. Yeah, no problem. I’ll read it an all that. And, dude, I’m happy to see you decided to not go through with the ostracizing plan you described at length, yesterday.”  Joking will get me focused...hopefully.

He blushes and it’s like’ kind of cute for a dude. A smirk tugs at my face.  Its  fun riling him up.

“I do intend on going through with it, AFTER I’m done hauling your ass out of here. Then I’m  gonna  be forever known as-”

“The king of butt crack nowhere. Yeah, I know.”

“Alright then, shit face” he slams the thick stack of paper in my chest and I hold them so they won’t fall, but when I do my hand lands on top of his and  _ holy shit,  _ his whole hand feels like it’s on fire. The blush is still plastered on his face “Just- fucking read this shit fest and then tell me the important parts. You have been doing loads of nothing all day, most likely. The most interesting event today has to have been  Aradia  coming by, so make yourself useful.”

It is true. And then, instead of doing anything useful I went to scavenge the things he told me not to. And found some disturbing items. I ...  I need to know. It’s a weird mix of fear with guilt. Sensation comparable to getting your best friend’s phone and, while browsing his conversations, finding indications that he’s cheating on his girlfriend.

It could be  true .

It could  also just  be me, getting my nose somewhere I’m not needed and coming to uncalled conclusions. But ...

I need to know.

“ Karkat  I- I couldn’t resist. ” I start my admission. Am I going to be yelled at? Probably. Monologued at? Definitely. Likely about  privacy . “I t was bigger than me. You know how the  _ being nosy _  thing is always a bad idea and all that- I know that too, and I’m not usually like that but- like' you were so adamant about it that it got me itching all over and shit. I just needed to know.  So  I... kind of... went down the basement.”

Several expressions cross his face. First, surprise, then worry , then he retracts his hand from mine and his faces all die. It’s like a switch has been flipped. 

“Did you like what you find?”

I shake my head.

“And that is why I tell people not to go down there” his mouth stretches to the left as if saying  _ I told you, _  but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

His usually big, expressive and deep eyes.

The comparison is stupid, but the feeling was exactly the same: It’s like when someone is brainwashed or blind in anime. The sparkle in the eyes just vanishes.

I don’t like this.

“ Karkat , why do you have a freezer with blood  pouches ?”

He eyes the sword in my hand and his  pupils'  contract.

I know that look. Is the look of a cornered beast. I drop that sword like it’s on flames and put both my hands up. He, slowly, passes by my right with his left hand. He closes the door to the basement and takes the key out of the door.

Karkat  doesn’t show me his back and retreats to his backpack walking backwards. He clutches the door key close to his chest and shakes his head side-to-side. He grabs the backpack before speaking.

“I’m not telling you jack shit while you ’re  walk ing around  the house with a fucking broad sword. Even a broken one. ”

“What? This? This perfect piece of garbage?” I tell him pointing to the sword on the ground “I just wanted to ask you what do you think would be the best place to place it.” I grab the hilt and show him  Caledfwelch , in all  it’s  shitty half-assed glory “C’mon, you  oughta  admit it’s cool.”

“The only thing I’ll admit is that it matches your broken sense of what it means to respect  ones  privacy.” He starts going upstairs, places a hand in the railing and looks down “Why would you even consider it being a good idea? I explicitly told you not to go down there.”

“Because-”

Do I tell him the truth? Do I even know what is the truth? I know it’s partially because I was curious and being nosy and shit but, part was also  ‘cause ... well...  ’cause  he was afraid of whatever was down there. I’ll admit I was also being selfish. I wanted to have his back at something. He busted me from certain death so many times already. He fed me and allowed me to stay and I just wish I had some way, any way to  _ pay him back _  and stop feeling so fucking useless.

“- I wanted something to do?”

It’s not the whole true but I guess – close enough?

He looks at me dead in the shades.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking with me, but if that is true, that is the worst reason ever to go down my basement.”

HA! Yeah. Now that I think about it, that must have sounded like I was just plain out bored – which is not untrue, but it’s not all there was to it.

Karkat  is looking at my face, trying to read it – he's never going to succeed. It’s a  pokerface  worthy of a Texas  Hold’em  Championship. He thinks I’m serious. I think I’m serious – which I am. I told him the truth...some sort of truth.

But, at least, the glow has returned to his eyes and he looks okay again.

“You are a disappointment of a guest” he deadpans.

“Well, you are an absent host. Since you’re not here to entertain me 24/7 I have to find ways to make myself useful or else I might just go back to that shallow grave and wait for the maggots to eat whatever else is left of my wish to live and all that-” shit, that was too real “ not that I would ever actually do that. I already showered  today,  I wouldn’t willingly lay down on the dirt to trash all the clean beauty of this fine body of mine. I had to wait for you to come home, and joke about  being  a receptive western maiden an’ all that  jizz  about receiving her husband with a homecooked meal and a hot neediness between her legs cause she’s been lonely all day, and then the movie jumps the best part which obviously is when they’re getting hot and heavy in the bedroom”

That shit was still kind of too real.

“That’s why I usually read the book in those cases instead of watching the movie, even because let’s face it, the whole point of showing a scene as scandalizing as that in a movie from that kind is to show to the public how the characters are making bad decisions with their lives. Fuck condoms and things of the sort, right? Just cause we’re in the past century and all that they act like anti  conceptionals werent  even a thing. Cleopatra was  using’em  hundreds of centuries before. I get pissed at how they make a thing that is supposed to have evolved so much just go up and poof! Vanish. Anyway, I’m rambling and I need to start the projects I have to deliver. Someone needs to kick the asses of a bunch on lazy bums to get the things decided to who is  gonna  do what and if that fucker  ain’t  me, nothing ever gets done, so I’m off, but like’ if you feelin’ that bored I have too many things to do, dude”

“ Drop’em  in me. Until I have my college situation solved and all that I’m  gonna  be the laziest bum you’ve ever seen.”

“You have absolutely  forgotten  to tell me and I was up my ass in shit to solve, so if you can spew so much shit out your gabber hole you certainly have it in you to enlighten me: what the fuck did you try for college?”

“A bunch of shit, really. I can actually choose, but without the money you sent your friend to catch I can’t even start to get my things to do my registration. If things keep at this pace is  possible  I only get to college mid-year and then my Bro would really have fucked me over. And I don’t even know how I would keep myself in there anyway. The funds for my education are all in his name, which means that, without killing him and having the account to my name, I can’t even spend the money. It’s all planned on the family heritage and all that. We have a specific account for  _ that _  kind of money that is touts out of the books of really known banks. Generally, is just a bunch of bullshit that makes us immune to any political cataclysms or economical deficits  cause _ Striders are above the mundane _  since we deal with things like demons and devilish deals. Why do you think we’re all so good looking?”

“Because you guys needed an upside to the amount of piled up bullshit.”

Wait. Did he low key agree I’m good looking?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to have gone down different, but I kinda like where it went?  
> I'll just have to hold a little plot for later.  
> I have and idea i'm cooking to serve later.  
> Shit's bound to get real, people - soon.
> 
> if ya see any typos, comment them for me. I don't have a beta. I'm essentially posting this as I go.
> 
> hope ya'll liking.  
> I'm liking - even if i don't know what I'm doing XDXD


	13. Karkat

Please, tell me you also think it’s absurd the fact that a  _ delivery company _  wants *me* to  _ go there _  to eat their food to publish a commentary about it. Please, tell me I’m not crazy and they are stupid.

Why are people this stupid? And the worse thing is – I'm actually considering it. Who is stupider? The guy that made the proposition or me? The food looks good, they are going to pay me but does the gas weighs heavier on my pocket?

Dave’s head pops by my door. I ignore him. I have a group project with 5 worthless pieces of shit that I'm  gonna  have to haul ass to make shit happen in case I want to go get a good grade in this fucking class. And I have to weigh the pros and cons of taking that job.

“Karkat”

“Fuck off”

“Dude, it’s quick”

“Fuck off, Dave”

“C’mon.  C’mere . I need to show you something”

“Are you going to organize 5 worthless pieces of shit and divide a 69 pages long text about the frugal nature of human interaction?”

“Are you  gonna  read too?”

“Obviously!”

“ Tha’s  like’ 11,5 pages to each person. It’s not that much” he says giving me a shrug “Now, c’mon, I want to show you something”

How did he do that math so fast? He didn’t even stop to think. 

I type to my group that each one of us is reading 12 pages each and that whoever’s getting the last few pages and getting the least of the reading is actually in charge of the power point, and let them decide who’s taking what part. Then I sigh and realize that if he can make that count that  fast  he can definitely make the count of whether is worth to take or not the job.

I get up.

“I have this job opportunity and it’s really dumb because it’s a delivery that  want’s  me to go there to try the food. The food looks really good, and they are paying me to eat, basically – but I have to factor the gas and the time spent doing that”

“How long would you have to drive? How much is gas today? How much are they paying you?”

I tell him the  infos  and he frowns.

“Don’t take it. Either tell them to come or just ditch the job. You’re bound to be low at least 25 dollars if you take this job. You’d be paying to work.”

“ Oooof . Yeah, no. I’m not taking that job. Fuck it.”

He takes me to his room, does a twirl and jazz hands added with a “ tcharaaaaan ” only to show me the display of his sword above his bed.

I look at it.

It’s dumb.

“That’s dumb. You’re  gonna  be sleeping and that thing will fall on your neck and destroy everything I did to keep you alive. Take that shit down.”

“What? No. Dude, I’m proficient with this shit” he says pointing at the exhibit “like’ if my brother is comparable to a ninja, I’m a medieval knight in all’ shinning armored and stuff.”

“And let me guess, you’re searching for a princess to save? And that’s why you decided to go to the basement? Find monsters lurking in the dark and start Don  Quijoteing  the shit out of imaginary nightmare fuel”

Hello? Projecting much? 

“What? Nah, man. I’m not looking for someone right now. I’m trying to ditch someone- in a way” he says mid shrug.

I listen to my door bust open and a feminine high pitched  psychopatic  voice bust right through.

“ Heeeeeeeey matey ! Your  moneeeeeeeeys  hoooooooome!”

I can literally count the 8’s of those  vogals . My eye starts to twitch.

“Stay here” I tell Dave “I mean it. I don’t have time to explain it right now, but seriously, if you so much as think about going down or think about grabbing that sword for any reason, think about happy thoughts or really disturbing thoughts. I never thought I would be saying this ever-” I can feel the blood running back to my cheeks “but think about my butt. It’ll either make you very happy or very disturbed and both are good counter measures. Other than  that,  just make sure you’re inside your room. I’ll be back after I’m certain she didn’t put her grubby hands on the money.”

“I thought she was your friend”

“She’s friends with friends and that friend is the single person on the whole known world that can handle her manipulative temperament. BRB”

I go down screaming because:

“THE ONE RULE I HAVE IN THIS FUCKING HOUSE IS TO NEVER LOCK THE FRONT DOOR. WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU NEED TO KICK IT TO ENTER, YOU PSYCHOLUNY JERK ASSHAT? WHAT IF I HAD TO CHANGE  CAUSE  YOU BROKE IT? WOULD YOU PAY FOR IT, HUH? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH KNOCKING OR JUST PLAIN OUT OPENING THE FUCKING DOOR WITH YOUR HANDS LIKE A NORMAL, FUNCTIONAL, INTELIGENT HUMAN *FUCKING* BEING??”

I see the fucking bitch sitting with both legs over my couch – still wearing her shoes.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA oh, you’re  gonna  give me a  migraine  screaming like that  Karkat , but it’s good to see you haven’t changed so much from our little vacation”

“Oh, I changed plenty since that. Where’s the money?”

She points to the center table. I jump over the railing of the stairs, circle around the couch and open the bag. Holly shit, that’s a lot of greens. I start counting and  Vriska  fishes out her phone and starts texting.

“I thought TZ would be here too”

“She didn’t help me, if that’s what you’re wondering. I didn’t tell her?”

“Why not? She’s be cool with helping you out”

“Because this is a problem between me and you,  Karkat . And I don’t like to have problems. I like to either solve them or be the main problem. I’d rather be the latter, though” she points with a mischievous grin.

“How’s the search going?” the money is stacking nicely, I’ll admit.

“Me and TZ are in the tails of some mob boss from her internship, but things are escalating and we think they might actually relate to your case- well, our case, really, in some way.”

“My case. You deserved being thrown into, well... vacations.”

“You don’t believe that. Not even TZ believes that.”

“TZ sees the good in everybody”

A second passes and we both laugh because it’s a double lie. She’s blind and doubtful of everybody’s intentions all the time.

I finish counting the money – I hope I didn’t count  wrong,  this is a lot of money.  Vriska  takes her legs from the couch. I rise and extend my arms for emphasis.

“Your prohibition of coming over my place has been currently revoked, but I do have it in me to kick you forever again if you pull some shit like that fucked up  move  on  Aradia  again.”

“Even if it’s on  Sollux ? He’s  soooooooo anoying sometimes .”

“Yes. Mainly in him. I need that fucker alive.”

If it wasn’t for his  coding  I would never have been able to pull the  pesterlogs  between Dave’s older brother and younger sister.

I had to go into the deep web all over again and access that same link, find the password, but not really, I just had to  copypaste Sollux  encryption and then BOOM, I had a page of  pesterchum  who got taken out of the public eye. Then I had to browse that shit and find something useful.

His twin sister – that’s what I got from that, at least – and his Bro keep in touch and they are very fucking friendly to each other in some very twisted ways.

“But I get what you mean. He can be very annoying. But you can be very  murdersome , and I don’t try to kill you for that”

“ Anymoooooooore , HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”

“DON’T BRING THAT UP, IT’S EMBARASSING! FOR ME AND FOR YOU.”

But mostly for me, which is why my blood rises to my face and my jaw tightens.

“Oh,  Karkat , you can’t make such week faces near me” she rises from the couch and gives a large step over the table, avoiding the pile of money and getting really close to me. Way more than I’m any levels of okay with. She grabs my face by my cheeks with one hand and pulls me close to her, whispering in my ear “You make me want to eat you – literally"

My heart is dead in my throat. She has had the audacity of biting me before. Then I see a hand popping in her shoulders and  Vriska  getting dragged across the living room back to the couch. Her hand leaves my face right before she is forcibly sat on the couch. Dave comes into my field of vision.

I was never so happy for being ignored.

“I do believe my host was not happy with being manhandled” his face is turned my way. Then he turns to  Vriska  “Care to explain?”

But the more people present, the more dangerous  Vriska  becomes.

“Is this your new charity case,  Karkat ? At this point you should just open a fucking hotline. People might actually start giving you credit for shit if you do.”

His jaw tightens.  Vriska’s  always been good at finding the wound and throwing salt and vinegar in it. And then rubbing that shit until the solution starts to make the wound bigger.

“Dave, let her go” I tell him. He looks at me incredulous.

Don’t ask how I know. He’s wearing his glasses and I think I just guessed or am slowly learning how to read him. It’s the curse of living with someone. 

“ Vriska , bounce. I have shit to do.”

“I don’t think so, friend” she rises, floundering with her arms.

“Unlike you, I grew a life for myself. I *do* have  shit  to do.”

“You get to enjoy your 55000  dollaaaaaaaas  and I get to enjoy your house, right?”

“No. You get the right to come by, like the rest of my friends.”

“So that does mean I’m your friend now, right?”

“No. It means that  next  time TZ comes by, you don’t have to wait outside like a dog, or the plague we all but her know you are”

“Oh, c’mon  Karkat . We escaped summer camp together. That has to count for something.”

“It did, until you pulled a fast one on another one of my friends. Do you even know how much shit I had to take from every side when you did that?” I said while also pointing at her.

She went to grab my shirt to make a point, but from the periphery of my view I see Dave vanish from where he was. Suddenly he appears in front of me, grabs her left arm, armlocks her, and bends her into the table, slamming her face-first. His left palm placed firm in the nape of her neck.

He is fast. Faster than me. He could have used that exact move to see my ass if he wanted, which just shows the fact he was being playful in the first place – if extremely annoying and nosy.

I couldn’t run from him if I needed.

“Dave, stop!” I tell him.  I have to avoid this from escalating.

But his mistake was leaving her right arm left alone. She pulls it to her temple and he goes rigid and erect like  Neville  from the Harry Potter movies after receiving  _ petrificus _ __ _ totalus _ .

She rises and, still with her arm by her temple, directs him to the kitchen.

It can’t be good.

“Vriska, stop! He didn’t mean anything bad by it.”

“People don’t go ramming my beautiful face around and get to walk unharmed. You know that better than anyone.”

She makes him light the stove.

“VRISKA SERKET, STOP THIS RIGHT NOW! LAST TIME YOU PULLED ONE OF THOSE AROUND, ARADIA DIED. IF HE’S HARMED, I WILL REBUILD THE FUCKING SUMMER CAMP ONLY TO PUT YOUR SORRY PSYCHO ASS BACK IN IT, AND I'LL BE THE WARDEN MYSELF.”

She makes him start bending, putting his face from an inch from the fire.

“I’LL FUCKING TELL TEREZI.”

She stops dead on her tracks and we exchange hateful glances.

“Snitches get stitches, Karkat.”

“Guess what gets stitches too? Actually, don’t bother, I’ll tell you. Bitches. Bitches get stitches.”

“Y o u   W o u l d t”

“Watch me”

I grab the phone and put on TZs number.

“I’ll fight you if you do”

“If you fight  me  you’ll get so high you’re  gonna  think you can fly. That’s how riled up I am  right  now. Do you  wanna  play birdies in my roof? You know I *wont* hesitate, bitch.”

My finger roams over TZs number. She stares at it like she wants to burn it. She heads to the door and opens it.

“Fine. But if your friend is not on a leash next time I come by, I’m not taking pity on him. You know I like to  watch’em  burn.”

A fleeting memory of screaming people tied to chairs comes to mind. Thankfully, it fades with the same speed it came.

It was Summer camp. Summer Camp and nothing else. Yeah. Nothing happened. I must be remembering that from a movie. A fucking gory and visceral B movie from the 70’s.

I don’t dignify that with an answer. She releases Dave from her mind grip and leaves.

I drop my arm and sigh with relief when I can’t see her anymore, putting my phone back in my pocket. Dave punches the counter in the kitchen.

“Are you okay, Dave?”

When I get there, he’s propped in a hand trying to look like nothing happened, but his brow is obviously sweaty from being this close to the fire. The stove is already turned off.

“What? Oh. Yeah, man. I’m prime. That chick was  kinda  crazy, right? Right. I’m cool. You cool? I’m  freezin ’,  chillin ’ , cooler than the ice berg that made the Titanic take a nose dive into the bottom of the sea. That’s how cool I am right now.”

This is why I told him not to come down stairs, but he’s so shaken I don’t even have it in me to earn my rightful “I told you”, because I proud myself in being merely a raging dick and not an  armageddonic  asshole.

Instead, I sit in front of him on the top of the kitchen island. I open my arms and motion my hands for him to come over.

“Dude, what does that even mean?”

“It’s me asking you to come over, you dense mothefucker.”

“Oh. Like’ close?”

“Yes! Into my arms. Do I need to explain to you how hugs happen!?”

“Nah, man. It’s all cool, just- like' no homo and all that...heh”

I roll my eyes because, seriously, how could I not. He comes forward and places his head in my shoulders, putting his left hand in my lower back and the right in my upper back. Dave pull me close tight against him and then I get it –  mothefucker  was worried with me and then didn’t really know what he was up against. I pet the back of his head and shoulder and whisper “I’m fine” and he just nods in my shoulder.

I just don’t know how much longer that’s going to be true with what I've done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been fair to Karkat so far.  
> I've developed more plot for him than I've been willing to show.  
> I would very much like to hear what you guys think happened between him and Vriska.
> 
> Plot will come back to be Dave centered soon, I would imagine.  
> Who knows? Maybe someone is finally going to be a college student!  
> Maybe not.
> 
> hope ya'll have fun =)


	14. Dave

turntechGodhead [TG] opened memo on board PRANKS, SQUIDDLES AND GENERAL SHINANIGANS. 

EB: dave, you're back! 

GG: welcome back!! 

GG: were where you?? 

GG: classes have already started in here....... 

EB: yeah, we thought you were going to get to college with us this week. 

TG: my bad guys 

TG: something came up 

TG: well 

TG: many things really 

TG: theres shit for me to deal with crawling the walls  

TG: getting out from under my bed like a jealous ex 

TG: sticking their sticky grubby fingers all over my brain and directing me to burn my face on an oven 

TG: anyway 

EB: gruesome. man, you’re missing so much right now! There's an entire team of really pretty cheer leaders that train in the gym and I'm drooling on them all on my lonesome without my best man to do that with me. 

GG: JOHN! we want dave to want to go to college with us!!! 

EB: if that doesn’t do the job he’ll have to build two closets to get out of. 

TG: why two? 

EB: try to guess 

EB: hehehehe  

GG: no one cares, right dave?? 

GG: but seriously 

GG: why didn’t you show up this entire week??? 

TG: shrug 

TG: i have my reasons 

EB: dude, are you making a con air impression? 

TG: never 

EB: because you’re being pretty Cagey. 

TG: … 

GG: … 

GG: john, that was disappointingly bad =( 

EB: it’s not! you guys are just not prepared for this finesse in humor... 

TG: dude if that had been more brutal it would have been a rapey lubless anal 

TG: or the murder of a puppy 

GG: noooooooooooooooooooo. not puppies!!!!!! =’( 

EB: are you going to start coming with us now, though? 

TG: cant man 

GG: dave, if you miss this many classes how are you going to catch up later? 

TG: the answer to that is actually fairly simple 

TG: ima strider 

TG: im just gonna suck it up and push past it 

TG: cause im that awesome  

GG:dave, you’ve already lost the adjustment week 

GG: i'm worried for you =( 

EB: yeah, dave! 

TG: guys... 

TG: I think I fucked up big time 

TG: alright 

TG: and theres nothing I can do to fix it right now 

TG: but ill be real 

TG: im probably not enrolling this year 

EB: hahahahaha. nice joke, man. I'm the prank master and you should listen when tell you that, that wasn’t funny. 

TG: not joking dude 

TG: dead serious bout this shit 

GG: -_- 

GG: dave 

GG: is it perhaps... 

GG: money problems??? 

TG: what 

TG: no 

TG: why would that even cross your mind 

TG: the issue is not money  

GG: because if that’s the case, you know I can just pay it for you, right?? 

GG: I’d rather do that then not have you here with us! 

GG: John won’t get off my hip without you here and I can’t have that when I’m trying to make new friends!!! 

EB: that is absolutely not true, but I will make it be in case it helps you change your mind. 

GG: I need someone to occupy him with the gross stuff >:p 

EB: and I need my best bro, who understands the fine art of mocking passerby and the dignity of B movies. 

EB: also, I need someone who can keep up with her, so she doesn’t drag me to sportsy stuff. 

EB: urgh 

TG: guys shut it 

TG: yall about to make me blush with how highly you think of me 

TG: not that I didn’t know why you guys wanted me around the whole week 

TG: im the most handsome of all of us 

TG: so obviously you need my awesomeness to get the best classifications at sportsy stuff 

TG: or to get out of trouble with the counselor for throwing buckets of shaving cream in unassuming passerby 

TG: honestly john you need to up your prank game 

EB: gosh. we got busted, jade. he got us. 

EB: we just want him around because he’s blond and douch-y. 

EB: like my charm isn’t enough to seduce any counselor. you offend me saying things like that, dave >:B 

EB: if anything, i saved your ass from getting suspended way more than the other way around. 

TG: high school was 

TG: 

TG: 

TG: 

TG: something 

GG: high school was shit and we all know it. But now you’re rid of your Bro, right?? 

GG: so now we get to enjoy the best years of our lives without you having to go back to that awful place!! 

GG: you can join john’s fraternity now!!!! =D 

TG: john joined a frat house 

TG: wow 

TG: is it as gay as the movies make them look like 

TG: actually i dont want to know 

TG: if it is it will get me nighmares 

EB: ha. ha. ha. 

EB: yeah, joke about it. 

EB: but you still didn’t answer the thing about the two closets. 

TG: i dont know man 

EB: one would be for you. the other for your ego. 

TG: ooooooof 

TG: i feel more burned then a chafed dick 

TG: ruthless man 

TG: where did that come from 

TG: is that you raging on me for leaving you for a week 

TG: laying a bit off of my awesome flavor can be good for your palate 

GG: stop this fuckery immediately!!! I hate it when you guys start this roast pit! =( 

TG: yeah man 

TG: jade is here 

TG: we should try to pretend we can be civil 

TG: shame on you 

EB: i can practice my roasts on you later. There's an event about that. It’s a rap battle. 

TG: you didn’t need anything more than the cheerleaders to make me want to go man 

TG: this is just you being plain out mean and basically drawing me out of my pit of shame with a bag of doritos and apple juice 

TG: when is it gonna happen 

EB: next week. friday at 22. but only people of frats can participate. that is one of the reasons I was pretty upset when you said you weren’t coming : ( 

GG: but seriously, what got you so hung up you couldn’t come? 

TG: way too many things 

TG: I just cant right now 

TG: and it pains me to say that 

TG: but the problem is not the money  

TG: its more about the fact that  

TG: i just had so much shit to do that i missed the window of opportunity 

EB: man, you really should read the news more... 

EB: the deadline has been extended in 15 days. 

TG: WHAT? 

turntechGodhead [TG] closed memo on board PRANKS, SQUIDDLES AND GENERAL SHINANIGANS. 

GG:  O_O 

GG: dave used caps??? 

EB: i didn’t even know he knew that existed. don’t ask me. 

EB: shrug. 

When I get to Karkat’s room with my applications in hand, he’s cocooned in his blanket with the light of his laptop framing his face and letting several shadows ghost across his eyes, bangs, cheeks and nose. He is focused but relaxed and lifts his lazy eyes from the computer screen. 

“Karkat, I need help. I don’t know which one I should actually do! It could be paleontology, music, cinema, economy, theoretical physics, although I think that last one might be Jade’s influence.” I shrug. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I was perfectly in peace until you started blabbering like a maniac. I at least have the right to know what the ever loving fuck you’re talking about, don’t you think?” 

“The deadline for enrolment has been postponed. I have until the end of the week to get my shit together. I have so many options I don’t even know which one to pick. I really need help man.” 

I might be imagining, but when I said I didn’t even know which one to choose, I think his eyes twitched. 

“Pick the one that’s going to make you happy. How could that be so hard?” 

“They can all make me happy, academically. I wanna learn all of this. C’mon, man, help a bro out. Help me choose.” 

“If you have so many options just fucking goose-goose-duck'em. If they’re all going to make you happy, what does it matter?” 

“Dude, why are you so sour?” 

“I’m not sour. I’m normal. Fuck off.” 

I sit on the end of the bed and put my papers down. 

“What are you watching?” 

He lifts a brow and starts to close the laptop. 

“Nothing...” 

“Dude, just show me” 

“I’m doing you a favor by not showing it to you. You have your own shit to sort through. And all that disregarding the fact that for you it would be a complete waste of time anyway, so just fuck off and leave me to wallow in the warmth of the blanket cocoon and my personal misery.” 

“Is it porn?” 

“WHAT? NO! AND EVEN IF IT WAS I WOULDN’T EVER TELL YOU IT WAS! WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT?” 

“I have low standards, man. I’m able to endure most of Nick Cage’s movies. I can endure whatever you throw at me if it isn’t porn.” 

Movie nights at John’s house will do that to a person. 

“You give my movie taste so much credit I wanna hurl. Even if it was porn it would have better quality than anything concocted by the B movie industry that you seem to love so passionately.”  

Karkat opens the laptop and I scoot closer to him, so I can recline on the wall and see the screen. 

It’s a romance movie about a guy that can’t move anything from the waist down and a girl that was hired to take care of him. And he wants to kill himself.  

I end up watching it with Karkat until the end. It’s very mellowy and sad and shit. There’s a fucking cist in my eye all over again and I'm scratching that itch underneath my shades like the plague. Then I look at him. 

He’s outright crying with a contorted mouth and a pouting lip. 

I wanna hug him so bad my heart aches. Oh, man. 

“Dude, why you crying? It's just a movie.” Don’t cry, dude. 

“It’s a fucking masterpiece! The emotions just roll out of people like they are supposed to!” 

“They are too explicit about the euthanasia thing. Is basically a movie trying to make a point. It’s almost an argumentative movie. That thing could be transformed into a documentary and nothing would have changed.” 

“How can you say that? The whole movie was based around their fucking relationship! Obviously, they had to have a history and all but it’s hardly documentary material, you insensitive asshole! Even Terezi could have more insight, AND SHE IS BLIND!” 

He is crying worse, profusely, whimper-y, with both hands in his face and now, also angry. I couldn't make him just swing from one to the other – shit. Please, stop crying Karkat, I don’t know how to deal with that! 

“Dude, quit crying! It’s just a dumb romance movie.” 

“SURE IS. LIKE EVERY THING THAT I DEEM WORTHY OF MY TIME AND EFFORT. LIKE EVERY ONE I DECIDE I CARE. YOU CAN ADD WORTHLESS, TIME CONSUMING, STUPID AND OVERBEARING TO THAT LIST AS WELL.” 

“Are we even talking about the movie?” 

“YES! AND NO! I DON’T KNOW ANYMORE, I JUST FEEL SAD, OKAY? LEAVE ME TO MY MISERY” 

I really wanted to give him a hug at that point, but that’s not how I work, ya know? I pull the laptop to my own lap and put in SBaHJ.  

If this can’t get him to at least stop crying it’s a complete failure in its prime directive, which is entertainment, and comedy. 

“What the fuck is this? Oh. Is this your hideous comic?” 

Oh yeah. He’s a hater. 

“Why the fuck would you show me this of all of the things you could show me? Seeing me cry is so bad you want me to gauge my eyes out?” 

That actually gets me smirking. 

“You do know that looking at this is the equivalent of grating my eyes in a cheese grater and then chafing them against sand paper, right? You have to make this on purpose. No one is this bad at drawing! A baby could have done better at using shapes in paint! And the misspellings aren't even coherent!-” 

He kept roasting my comic at length, which actually drew a smile out of me because he had picked up everything I put there to make it the most amazing art piece by comparatively being the biggest monstrosity ever. I really have to school my face back, but can’t. Seeing him go from crying to ranting so exasperate about something is like going from a funeral to Disney. 

“I’m telling you it’s horrible! Why are you smiling? Have the mush of neuromatter you call a brain finally snapped?” 

“I think I know what I’m gonna do.” 

He cleans the remaining tears from the underneath of his eyes with the blanket before asking. 

“And what is that? Deleting this? You shouldn’t, even if just to remind you about your past mistakes.” 

“Nah, dude. I’m going to do became an Ace Director of really good movies. By which I mean, I’m totally producing SBaJH.” 

“Oh no. WHAT HAVE I DONE?!” 

Well. At least now, he’s not crying anymore. And I got a review from an actual critic for free. SCORE! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> people  
> coding this  
> WAS BULLSHIT.  
> also, i think this can e classified as fluff in some extent?
> 
> give me your thoughts and suggestions! 
> 
> I think next chapter is going to be really interesting.
> 
> also, I just noticed: this is the first pesterlog I write in Daves point of view!
> 
> I'm gonna get good at writing and coding pesterlogs if I keep this up...


	15. Karkat

Obviously, all that yesterday was to ask me if I could drive his ass to college. 

It’s not like he’s a ninja who can jump from trees and rooftops.

“That shit’s tiresome, dude. I know it looks cool n’ all but it’s actually pretty useless in the day to day.”

And here I am. Wrapped in a baggy hoodie that covers my eyes and with a scarf over my mouth. And duct tape over it – I can’t forget I can’t speak today. My life literally depends on it. I had to lie to Dave and tell him I was sick. He didn’t see the tape above  my  mouth, thank  GOD . That would’ve made him suspicious ,  to say the least.

All because the college this asshole decided to choose stays in the center of the place that hates me the most in the world. The whole city hates me. And how could they not? I’ve ruined all its structures with a flick of my wrist. And maybe a deniable broken nose. Or wrist. Or finger. I got really fucked up in my  advances  to destroy all that was rotten in that piece of shit of a place.

REGARDLESS! I got to get hi m  there now, because he doesn’t have a license and I wouldn’t ever lend him my ONLY means of transportation out of this forest of creeps, rapists and murderers.

No. It’s not that bad. I’m a hyperbolic person. But it is bad. Sometimes I go on walks and I hear people fucking behind the bushes. It’s several levels of disturbing and I could admit to listening to  way  more intercourse than part aking in it  - which is all the levels of sad and pitiful ever.

Love the sinner, they say. Hate the sin, they say. Right now, I hate everything. The sin, the sinner, earth, haven, hell, Dave and his stupid self-centered ass and stupid smile, me and my general stupidity, his loud and obnoxious high school friends who are kind of hot in their own merits, his big and spacious university that has me sweating inside this fucking coat with how much I had to walk to get anywhere relevant but ,  mostly ,  the attendant.

I want to chew his head off.  This line is never going to end.

Oh, yeah. Dave was doing introductions.

“Yeah. He’s letting me stay at his house and all.  Its  cool.”

“You’ve told us many things about him, but not his name so far.” Says the guy with the buck teeth.

“It’s usually where you start introductions, you know?” adds the smiling and smart looking girl.

“Names are overrated and tell very little about a person.  Ya  know? I’m more of  a _ actions speak louder than words _ kinda  guy-” and yet won’t shut your fucking trap and is obsessed with your last name “and so is my side ho, right?” he places his arm around my neck and pushes me closer.

I stick a middle finger in his face so hard people hear it as a bitch slap. It stays there, marked in the middle of his face in  red.  Buck tooth and  Smart  girl laugh blissed at the sight.

“What? Why you guys laughing?”

Smart girl takes her cellphone and shows Dave his new blush mark. Ironic. I can now, without a shadow of doubt tell people I made cool-douche blush – in the most unorthodox way ever, but who’s keeping score, right? That tugs at the tape in my mouth. 

Stupid me. You can’t laugh until this shit is sorted. Fuck, this hurts.

“Well. What’s the plan now? I can’t go to the interview with this in my face. Might as well draw a dick, know what I mean?”

I pull him a red sharpie from my bag as ways to say  _ be my guest, _  although he is already. He takes it, makes an unimpressed expression – his usual – and then smirks. 

I don’t like the  mischievous  smirk.

“You shouldn’t have done that” says Buck tooth. 

He grabs both my arms and locks them behind my back. Dave starts to approach me menacingly with the sharpie. Oh fuck. He’s going to draw a fucking dick in my face. No way. NO WAY.

I whimper and growl for him to stop this nonsense, kicking so that he’ll keep far with the doomed drawing apparatus. In one of my kicks he holds my leg.

“John! Dave! Stop! He is not okay with being pranked!”

John counters her.

“Well Jade, if he was, wouldn’t exactly be a prank, right Dave?”

When the pen was a nail away  from my face , I tore at the tape that was above my mouth, bit the sharpie, ripped it from Dave’s hand and spat it in his forehead. I headbutted John in the chin and stated.

“NO ONE IS DRAWING DICKS ON MY FACE, ASSHOLES!”

“oh, so now your voice works” Dave snarks.

 Well, fuck you.

“See! I told you guys.”

“Yes, Jade. Thanks for being the only sane human being in the facility. That helps a lot when all you do is tell people what not to do instead of helping a human who was obviously being mutually assaulted by the biggest assholes in the facility. Thanks a lot” I take the rest of the tape from my mouth and look around. Good. Everybody seems to be minding their own business, for a fucking change “Also, you can fucking find your own way back home, dickhead. I’m not staying around for the shit fest you and your high school “friends” will probably be up to. I’ve got money to make and no responsibility over your” I was  gonna  say ass, but by now I’ve learned my lesson “bodily appendages” give a guy a break, okay? Ass would be the next logical thing to say and I had to come with something on the fly.

I need to get out of this place and I can’t let Dave be seen with me. Not now that my voice is out. People might not have payed mind till now, but the moment someone comes for me, him and I need to be as far away from each other as possible.

** Afraid of making too many mistakes? **

SHUT UP. I CAN’T HAVE THIS RIGHT NOW.

** You know you can’t beat them without  ** ** me,  ** ** you ** **  useless little shit. **

I won’t have to. I can outrun them and you can go back to the pit of worthless bullshit you crawled out of. I don’t need you!

** Like you didn’t need me in the Asylum all those years ago? HA, don’t make me laugh at how worthless you would have been without me. **

I got RID OF YOU in the Asylum. RID, YOU HEAR ME? BURNED YOU WITH ALL MY SINS.

** Is that what we are calling all those people now? Our sins? Dude, fuck off, this is about to became a do or die situation. If you don’t let me take the front seat we are as good as Dad. **

I’ll take my chances. All you ever do is kill people. I can’t take that anymore.

** Do or die. Kill or be killed. Are you as deaf as you are dumb?  **

“Mister, I would like you to accompany me to the exit” says some guy in guard uniform.

I huff to the group of monkeys and say “I was already leaving, anyway.”

There’s a police car outside the building.

** This is escalating quickly. Not at all like we predicted, right? We are totally getting out of this one without breaking some necks or shooting someone in the face. I’m  ** ** soooooo ** **  smart. How could I ever have prevented that from happening, right? **

SHUT UP, I’M THINKING.

** THERE IS NOTHING TO THINK! LET ME TAKE THE FUCKING FRONT SEAT ALREADY OR DO YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO THE ASYLUM YOU CRAZY ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?????????????? **

MAYBE I SHOULD! IF IT WOULD GET ME RID OF HAVING YOU INSIDE ME ONCE AND FOR ALL!

** THAT WORKED WONDERS LAST TIME, DIDN’T IT? **

SNARKING ISNT HELPIIIIING....

“ Karkat  Vantas, you are under arrest for-” queue the long list of felonies that goes from petty thievery to murder.

So much murder. So many people...

** Oh, quit it. It was justifiable. People just wouldn’t believe that an underground organization or murder clowns wants to bring about the apocalypse through a murder ritual of getting everyone high as a kite on your mutant blood so they can murder each other like the fucking Purge. **

WELL, I’M BASICALLY GIVING THEM A HAND BY ENDING SO MANY PEOPLE MYSELF, AINT I?

** UUUUUUUUUUUUUUURGH. **

That is far from an argument.

The two police officers finish the list, and like many times before, they shoot the closest eye witness around – the guard – and I know. I hate it but I know. I have to let hi m  take the front seat.

** Finally. **

** When I hear the shot, I jump forward and flip, stopping at a hand stand and extending my legs to hit each of the  ** ** cops ** **  chins. I hear a gun hitting the ground and go for it. **

** I shot their heads. But I can hear him in the back of my mind. **

** He’s crying. **

** We have about two hours before Dave is home. **

** We need to dispose. **

“Okay google” I say to the phone “closest lake to Paradox University,  Skaia  City.”

** Maps opens. With a lot of difficulty, I place all the bodies inside the trunk of the cop car. Including the guard. I pity him. He was just doing his job. Fucking clowns and their endless Network of stoned pieces of bullshit. **

** I close everything and drive the cop car to the park. I have to admit that I’m pleased with myself. Not a single blood drop on my part. I thought I was more out of shape then I actually am. **

Terezi  is going to fucking chew my ass.

** Shut up and go back in. This is not done yet, anyway. **

** I get to the park and throw the car in the lake. **

** Then I get an Uber back and pay in live cash. **

** When back at the University, Dave is alone, impassive, looking at his phone and rubbing his behind all over the front of my car. **

Okay. No. Get the fuck out. Thank you for your services and go die in a shallow grave, I’ll take it from here.

Yes. That is an accurate description. I approach him and the car. He doesn’t look at me when he makes his question.

“Where were you dude? Like’ I know you said you’d go home an’ all that, but when I come out here is dark as shit and your car is here in the parking lot and you’re nowhere to be seen. I looked all over campus for you but it was like you were a ghost. And... uhm...how do I say this nicely?”

“Don’t. Hit me. I’m numb to bullshit right now.” well, mostly.

“People hate you, dude. They would squint at me with  murdersome  eyes when I would ask about you.”

“Did someone follow you?”

“Wha? No. You think I wouldn’t have noticed something like that?”

“No. You’re right. But enough about me. How was the interview?”

“Smooth. I’m in already. Signed all the papers and shit. I’ll probs be out of your hairs soon. John took me to meet his Frat mates and they’re actually cool. I could see myself living there.”

“O-oh. Well, don’t get yourself too excited. Frat parties are not what movies paint them to be. There’s usually way less hook ups and  waay  more vomit” I open the car and take my rightful seat as the driver, busying my hands with the  wheel  so they’ll stop shaking.

** Maybe that could be a good thing. Way easier to dispose of bodies that way. **

Get out of my head.

Dave opens his side and slides inside.

“I’m not  gonna  say no to getting wasted, man, but that’s not why I want to join in” he closes the door and slides the seat belt – I think he has learned by now I’m an angry driver – before continuing to run his mouth “there’s this rap battle that’s  gonna  happen and I really want in, you know? Shit’s  gonna  all be savage. At least I hope  so, cause  I know I will.”

I start the engine.

“I wish I had your luck. At my college the event of the week is usually in the law campus, and it’s usually about missing people that got found dead in the bottom of a lake with single shots through the head.” shit, too real.  Guilt starts crawling at the back of my throat.

** Keep it together! You can cry your pitiful ass back at home after marathoning The Titanic, Me Before You and some iteration of Romeo and Juliet with the original ending, where he stabs himself and she drinks the poison. **

YES. RIGHT. I KNOW.

“Dude, you’re not okay. You look like you want to puke. Pull over.”

“I do want to puke. And the faster I get to my house, my room, my bathroom, the faster I can indulge in that weird and at the same time very emptying desire of mine.”

“No. Man. Pull over. If you ruin my get  up  I’ll fucking ruin your face.”

I pull my scowl further down for him to understand the increased levels of my annoyance, but that just make my stomach want to start a mutiny, so I d o  pull over  and empty my guts in the nearest tree.

** You. You are a disgrace. **

And you are me. You’re welcome.

** I, you, we, used to do this kind of shit in a daily basis and now you’re all soft and mushy and useless. And they are gaining territory on us. Universities used to be safe spots. So were libraries. Now they run everything and that guy died because you didn’t let me take the wheel sooner. It’s all your fault he’s dead, you know? **

How is that any better than what actually happened? Could we have said they worked for the fucking clowns with just the way they were dressed?

** No one gave two shits about our night job if it wasn’t a bounty hunter for the SCPD or a Juggalo. In both cases they would have had to die. We can’t  ** ** have’em ** **  on out tail. It would throw all of TZs work on that so far in the garbage disposal to be incinerated – like any of the chances we ever had with her. **

Do you want me to start crying right now? Is that  gonna  make you happy?

** Maybe. But it would also let Dave in even more unease. Have you seen the face the guy is making? Is like he has to decide between calling 911 because you look crazy and he’s afraid for his life or petting your head because he can’t  ** ** fucking ** **  deal with the load of bullshit we are made out of. I’m not surprised that the first chance he gets to see himself free of you and he’s not even questioning. He’s going all – where do I sign to get rid of this crazy lunatic?? **

It’s just cause is closer from his college and he has friends in there.

** Yeah. Keep believing that. He’s part of The Network now, for better or worse, so if you do keep helping him with the shenanigans about his  ** ** brother ** **  he might be more willing to help you out with murder Juggalo. He is light years better at fighting then we’ll ever be. **

That is only because he doesn't kill his opponents, so he has more techniques for immobilization and diversion and you could learn a thing or two.

** Or he could learn how to me more deadly. If we just beat Juggalos into submission they are  ** ** gonna ** **  come back. **

They are  gonna  came back anyway. We’ve been killing them since we were 15. We are in college now and what have we accomplished? JACK SHIT, that’s what. If anything, they act like fucking Hydra's. The more heads we cut; the more heads appear to be cut.

** That is why he  ** ** oughta ** **  find the fucking source. **

Terezi  is on that. She promised me she would.

** And how much progress has she made from then to now? Hu ** ** h ** **? **

“ Dude, you look crazy as fuck. Did you know that?” Dave said

“What? Why?” I don’t turn to look at him yet.

I spit whatever there’s left in my mouth. He hands me the water bottle and I take a swig to then spit.

“You’re talking to yourself. It like a two-face kind of shit. Creepy as fuck. You rehearsing for a play? I don’t judge if you like to act man. Like’ yeah, people joke that people that go into theater have to be at least some percentage of gay cause there’s a lot of bodily contact in the rehearsals of serious groups of actors n’ shit. But John  want’s  to be an actor and a magician and he’s the most stereotypical straight person I’ve ever talked to. If I had to have a role model it would end up being a mix of him with Bro. As much as Bro is an  asshole  he’s like’ strong as all bullshit. His powers and prowess on shit are bullshit. And John is just fun to be around. He makes people laugh and anyone can always count on him for anything. So-”

“ So  your fucking idea of being a Dude is being dependable? Fine.” **  I toss him the keys. **

He doesn't have a license. This is INSANITY!

“Take us home. I’m  gonna  be passed out on the passenger seat.”

“Okay. No. You’re not okay. We are calling  an  Uber”

“We are not leaving my only means of transportation in the middle of a forest for it to be used as an intercourse cave for horny and desperate teenagers or homeless stoned people. You are going to drive us home. And I’m  gonna  have my fair share of night  horrorterrors  while you do that.”

** I look myself in his dumb glasses. **

** It’s weird that, when I’m me, our bodies eyes seem to render themselves empty. I’m still scowling and being obnoxiously ornery and generally me but, it’s like the body doesn’t recognize this as my real personality. **

Because it’s not, asshole.

** I’m just as much you as you are me. And don’t try to deny. The fact you needed a separate personality to keep yourself functional is just pitiful for the both of us. **

** Anyway. **

** Terezi ** **  will need to know this happened. **

** I guess I can tell her tomorrow during classes. **

** If Dave can drive us home without killing us – that is. **

I still think this is insanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd yall like some PLOT.  
> I hope more people are on board with the self hate train cause KK ain't stopping this shit.  
> I wonder how I can fit Dirk in this picture of disgrace.  
> Next chapter there'll be even more plot on KKs side.  
> ITS EXPO TIME, BABE.  
> (but it's still Dave's perspective, don't worry)  
> How yalls think Dave is gonna deal with KKs crazy? Maybe he'll run for the hills of Johns Frat - who knows?  
> gimme your thoughts and suggestions.  
> And as always, I hope you enjoyed the chapter - cause I keep not knowing what I'm doing.


	16. Dave

Karkat wasn’t okay yesterday and I was still shaking from having to drive his unconscious body back to the house. Lucky for us, he lives inside a forest, which means that, at the very least, the probability of me running over people goes so fucking down the probabilistic and metaphoric stairs it rivals with the probability of me getting hitched and having children – which with the whole curse thing is so close to zero it could make people think I was trying to get myself inside a seminar. 

Not that I would turn down the possibility of getting laid – I'm a fine gentledude who can enjoy the fine things in life, like felatio and the likes. 

I somehow, someway, by some miracle, do manage to park the car – it died on me right when I needed it to, but the sleeping beauty doesn’t need to know that. He is completely passed out, so I open his car door and take him inside all bridal-style. His body is so fucking limp that if it wasn’t for the fact I could feel his warmth in my hands and see his chest rising and falling, one could mistake him for a corpse. 

Never have I been happier for a weird as fuck door fetish. Not having to unlock any doors was really handy for putting him to bed. The dude was clocked so hard that Chronos, the greek time titan, would have been jealous of how clocked this guy was. Be all like: give me the fucking clocks back! I need them to work you little petty thief! Or something equally absurd cause being a titan and all he could just fucking Zeus the shit out of him to get what he wanted back. 

No, wait, Zeus and Chronos don’t like each other. 

Ah, fuck this metaphor. 

Karkat is in his bed, passed the fuck out and being all adorable without the wrinkles and expression marks he usually caries around with the frowny front that he sports 24/7, looking like a little kitty with wrangled hair falling down his face and soft puffy cheeks that are also caressed by his stupidly long black eye lashes. His mouth is slightly open and moves in the same tempo his chest does. Every now and again he licks his lips, wetting them. 

Why the fuck am I staring? Let the guy sleep in peace and quit being creepy by watching the only time in three days you’ll be able to see his unfrowny face. Why am I even staring his face anyway? And why am I counting the days? It’s not even like this is gonna happen again, anyway. And if it did, it would definitely not be my fault, or any plot of my doing, because I would never be so fucked up as to plot to see a bro of mine sleep. That shit’s taken straight out of the ninja handbook and I couldn’t want anything less in my life. 

I open his window and look outside. The car is parked in the worst possible way. I could go there and fix it – I think – but I won’t. Being who I am, I’ll just tell him I did it on purpose and ignore the several expletives he’s bound to dump on me. 

I seriously need to get my license, though. 

The night is crispy, perfect to huddle beneath blankets and sleep my shape into the mattress, but something is crawling at the back of my head. 

Karkat was lying to me. Frequently. Or telling me half-truths. Also, his basement is out of the boundaries of what I'm supposed to consider usable residence. Not that I would have any use for the blood pouches in the freezer, but the fact he has them is still pretty worrying. 

He also has the two-face bullshit. Holy shit, that shit is creepy. 

Maybe they are related. The basement thing and the two-face thing. 

The way he reacted the first time I asked about the basement it wasn't as if he was hiding something that could hurt someone. It was as if he was afraid of whatever he could find down there. And even when I went down there and he found out, he wasn’t scared for himself. It was disappointment all over his face. 

Except when he saw Calledfewlch. He was obviously scared of that. 

Of me. 

Well, maybe not of me. For as scary as I can pose myself to be, I wasn't even trying then. If anything, I probably looked like a 10-year-old whose mom got him red handed at the cookie jar. But he, for sure, wasn’t really feeling cozied up to my sword. 

Shit, that sounded way more sexual then it should when I’m trying to pinpoint if my host is gonna try to kill me or not. 

Although, I do think I could rule that possibility all together. 

He saved my ass from bleeding myself to death, went to visit me in the hospital 80% of the days I was there, and the single day he didn’t he was looking into ways to get rid of Bro. 

For as long as I’ve been here, there has been food in the fridge and cupboards, hot water to shower, and even when mad he’s never lifted a hand my way except to flip me the bird. 

Whenever I had a problem that seemed impossible to solve, he stepped in and fixed it with a flick of a wrist and a call, even if it put him in danger. 

He literally saved my face threatening the crazy spider bitch with a phone call. If this shit ain’t the most ass backwards way I’ve ever seen someone get saved then I don’t even fucking know. 

I don’t think I’m going to be able to decipher him or his intentions. Not for now, anyway. Which brings me to my second and actually, more relevant problem. 

Bro. 

He has been too quiet. Not in the literal sense, even because he usually only shut’s up when he’s mad at you, wants you to agree with him or when he’s unconscious. I’ve only seen the last one once, and it was when we used to live all together. 

Roxy hit him in the back of the head using her ability to go invisible when he stole one of her wizardy teddy bears for the electronics. He needed the parts to build some talking robot. He tried asking, he tried bargaining, he tried threatening and when nothing worked, he tried to steal it. Roxy was having none of that. 

She grabbed her sniper, vanished, and when Bro was on his way to his room with the stollen goods, she poofed right behind him and rammed the blunt end of the gun in his nape. 

He was out for two entire days and has respected Roxys No’s ever since. 

I wonder what the fuck he’s doing that he hasn’t showed up yet. He knows where this place is. With the forest density he could have been spying on us for days. If he can’t kill Karkat because he’s not on his paygrade he could just wait for him to leave for college all those days back. 

I was alone in here. 

I look back inside and to Karkat. He’s shaking and cuddling himself. Shit. I placed him above the blankets. 

I take his computer from up the bed and lay it on the ground, then I take both ends of the blanket and wrap him inside. Just from cutting the chill his face is graced by a very small smile that soon gives way to a relaxed face. 

I give the Karkat blanket cocoon a double thumbs up, close the window and close the door of his room. If he wants to go grab the Zzs, he’s more them welcome. I can’t relax though. 

So I decide do scan the perimeter. 

I do, a little, but most of my plan goes right down the watering hole when the heavens decide it’s time to show what clouds are made out of. 

It’s water, dudes. Shit’s made out of condensed water. And it shows when the heavens decide to make an impression of a widowed young lady who loved her husband a lot and lost him untimely to a war of unhuman proportions, like’ joining the army’s for World War ll. They had to straight up bury him with a closed casket because of all the facial and not facial features he lost when trying and failing to accomplish his duty of disarming a bomb. Dude fucked up bad. His entire squad died along with him because he wasn’t as good at his job as he was at making babies. And now that recently widowed woman is gonna have to take care of the baby alone. I hope you’re happy. 

Okay, that got out of hand. What was I talking about? 

Oh yeah. Rain. It started pouring. 

A lot. And it didn’t stop. It didn’t look like it was going to anyway. 

When getting close to the house, the lights were lit. Hopefully it was Karkat being awake. 

Please be Karkat awake. 

I push the door open and breathe. It is Karkat, awake and brewing some coffee. Also, now wearing a pajama with crab stamps. It looks like something one could find in the kids section, but it clearly fit him. And fuck, he looked huggable. 

Anything would look huggable in those. Imagine something that is a mix of the huggableness of Toothless from How To Train Your Dragon and Stitch. Now. It doesn’t matter how straight you are. You would hug something that cute no matter who was wearing it, be it girl, boy or a fucking bear. 

Now add a grumpy cat. 

Aaaaaaaaaaaand I really need to keep it together. Personal space is a thing. A thing that should always be respected. 

“Dave, what the fidgety fuck are you doing in my door looking like a soaked traumatized and kicked cat? Stop being weird and get the fuck inside! The longer you leave the door open, the more I get chills, inconsiderate asshole.” 

“Oh, right, yeah. The weather is not the nicest right now” I close the door and take off my shoes “but what woke you up? If I had strangled a cat while you slept right beside your ear the maximum amount of fucks you would have given would be the equivalent of a grunt and a sneeze.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry to try and enjoy any sleep I get. I thought life was already punishing me enough by only allowing me sleep once every 3 nights.” 

“Why do you do this to yourself man?” I ask while he hands me a cup of the recent brew “I had to sleep with one eye open every night back at my place and I still slept every night”. 

It’s steamy, black, sugarless and strong. Holy shit, this thing is hard to go dawn, but it does wake me up while heating my body. I’ll give him the credit for knowing how to brew his coffee. 

“I don’t like going to sleep. Makes me feel like I'm wasting time. I usually am, because I just stand there looking at the fucking ceiling like I’m waiting for it to suddenly change. And every time I close my eyes I-” he stops talking suddenly, closes his eyes and turns his head away from me, then he opens “forget it. I’m gonna get you some towels so you don’t drench my house. If I get any wet footprints around my house you’re never gonna hear the end of it, Strider. Stay put.” 

“Yes boss.” 

There. Again he has something. When he went all fuck it mode and gave me the car keys he mentioned something about having nightmares but, for them to be so bad that he can only sleep once every three days and out of exhaustion? How bad are they? 

What does he dream about? 

I finish drinking the bitter coffee and walk with soggy socks to the kitchen to deposit the coffee mug in the sink. 

I hear it before I see it. A high-pitched voice that strikes the ears like nails on chalk board. 

“HEEEEEEEEELP! KARKAT! HEEEEEEEEEELP MEEEEEEEE!” 

The door opens and I see a woman dressed formally in reds and teals also wearing red glasses. No, wait, that ain’t only her outfit. She is carrying another woman, but this one I know. It’s Vriska. She’s bleeding on the floor. One arm sling around the first woman and the other- not there. Her long black and unruly hair is falling forwards and obscuring most of her features. 

“KARKAT! I NEED A FAVOR! PLEASE!” 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING? WHY ALL OF THE...ruckus” is what he says while going down the stairs. 

It’s in the time of a blink. His eyes go numb the moment he sees them. 

“Please! Help her.” The woman with the glasses asks. 

“Take her to the hospital, there is nothing I can do.” 

“IF I TAKE HER THERE, SHE’S AS GOOD AS DEAD! YOU KNOW THIS. PLEASE. THERE MUST BE SOMETHING YOU CAN DO!” 

“THERE IS NOTHING I CAN FUCKING DO TEREZI! DO I LOOK LIKE A PHYSICIAN?” 

“SHE IS DYING! JUST SAVE HER!” Now I can see that, beyond the wet, she is also crying. 

Karkat’s jaw locks tight. He considers it for a second. 

“I can try, but I can’t make any promises. Do you agree?” 

“YES!” she answers rapidly. 

“Then go to the basement. Prepare the operation table. Take her clothes off. I’m gonna make a call. Dave, I’m sorry to ask this of you, but give her a hand. Her chances are better if we all help.” 

Operation table? In the basement? I know I didn’t look into the cupboards but, could they even hide something that big? 

I look at the puddle of blood forming underneath Vriska. 

I guess I know what the blood pouches are for, now. Karkat hands the basement keys over for me and I open the door. 

The girl – Terezi – and I go down the stairs. She sits Vriska on them and starts to grab the wooden crates from underneath the flight. I follow. We grab three each and align them in a rectangle. She opens the cupboard on the far left and pulls a metal plate from there that must have occupied at least 3 other door sets. I help her pull and uh, try not to make things be too awkward. 

“So, I’m Dave. You seem to know a lot about where shit is down here. I wouldn’t assume its luck. You come here often?” 

She sniffs twice. 

“You’re nervous. First time, cool kid?” she asks with a nervous smile. 

“What? No. Been doing this since I was 5, you know? Patching wounds, stopping bleedings, reattaching limbs and that kind of shit. Why? This your first time?” She hands me a cloth and sprays some alcohol into the metal board. I run the cloth over it until it’s vanished. 

“I’m blind. What do you think?” She gives me a toothy grin. 

“That whatever it was that hit her, you didn’t see it coming” my face is serious. Her grin vanishes. 

“I wish there wasn’t so many truths in those words” she admits “There’s a white blanket in the last cupboard on that side. Go get that.” 

“Got it.” 

When I come back, Vriska is mostly naked, with just the bra and panties. I give her the blanket. Karkat gets down the stairs. 

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO DOING THAT SHE’S NOT PIERCED BY A BLOOD POUCH YET?” 

He’s out of the crabby pajamas and wearing shorts and a black sleeveless shirt. Black leather boots that go up to his knees and rubber gloves. Nothing matches. But everything seems to have a very clear intent: if blood gets on, it’s easy clean up. 

“TEREZI, GO GET ME FLAIRS AND A RUBBER” he says and she gets moving right away “DAVE, A+ BLOOD. GET IT TO HANG ON THAT NAIL ON THE WALL.” 

When all is done, he adds. 

“Dave, get her legs and try not to puke, okay?” 

Wait. What? 

“Tz, her arm. Don’t let her bend it. Understand?” 

She nods and gives him the stuff he asked. 

I hold Vriska’s legs, Terezi the arm, Karkat ties the band tight around what’s left of her other arm. She wakes up. 

“What- What the fuck?” 

“Welcome to hell. I hope you had a pleasant trip so far, because now you’re in for a world of pain, Ms. Serket!” Karkat says with venom “I hope you like the taste of burned meat” I think I’ve never seen Karkat’s eyes so empty before. 

He lights the flaire with his teeth and burns the wound in the arm where most of the blood is leaking out of. 

His eyes glow red and a sadistic smile graces his face while Vriska squirms in pain and screams her lungs out, cursing and threatening. 

When he is done, and she passes out from the pain, he turns to Terezi and bites venomously. 

“If this is all for the night, I’m out.” he throws the flair on the ground and starts to climb the stairs back to the first floor “By the way, I called Kanaya. The worst of Vriska is taken care of, but she is still pretty busted.” 

“How can I pay you back?” She asks. 

Karkat stops with his back still to her and says, without screaming, but loud and clear “Do your fucking job”. 

Ouch. I don’t even know what the fuck this is about and I can still tell that must have hurt her bad. 

When he vanishes, she sits on the ground and the tears stream all over her face again. I offer her my hand. 

“C’mon. We should leave her. Staying won’t help us. Do you want coffee?” 

She cleans the snot from under her nose and gives me the other hand for me to help her to her feet. 

“Yeah. Coffee sound good.” 

We sit on the couch. Mugs in hand and sipping quietly until she decides to speak up. 

“You’re probably confused as fuck, right now. I can tell by the way you’re being awkward.” 

“My go to in awkward situations is to make jokes to break the ice, ya’know? But what kind of jokes could I make now that wouldn't make me sound like a major insensitive asshole? I’m kinda out of ammunition for this particular scenario.” and then I shrug cause fuck it. 

“That- is refreshingly honest of you.” 

“You don’t know me, how could you say that I lie a lot?” 

“No one who doesn’t need to lie a lot uses shades in tight enclosed spaces” 

“I’m albino and offended. Also, I could be a pro poker player. My poker face is impenetrable.” 

“You have a good poker face, but not the best I've seen.” 

“I don’t think you’ve seen many, lately.” I joke, flicking her red glasses. 

But I do wonder what Karkat meant with her job. 

“I’m a lawyer” she says before I have the chance to ask “and I work for the SCPD. I do investigative work a lot. And Vriska is like’-” she wonders for a moment “my underground contact. And my partner, in many ways.” 

I hum in understanding. 

“You are the guy who got him in trouble, aren’t you?” She asks. 

I mean, yeah, we had to run from the hospital faster than fucking cheetahs and he did almost die, so I guess trouble is too tame a word to use in this scenario. 

With a single raised brow I answer “Not really sure what you mean by that.” 

“He almost died at a hospital? How? Who even would attack a hospital? Why was he in a hospital- oh. He was visiting you, wasn’t he?” 

“I didn’t say any of that. What the-” 

“I can read things that are on the front part of the minds of people.” 

I imagine a cute puppy dressed in a Sherlock Holmes outfit. 

She squeals with the cuteness of the mental image. 

I imagine a doodle dick. 

She pouts her lips and blinks rapidly in a are you serious? kind of way. 

I remember a smuppet. 

“What the fuck is that??” 

“You don’t wanna know.” 

I remember Karkat brewing coffee in his pajamas. She smiles. 

“Me, Sollux and Aradia gave him those. They have matching slippers, you know.” 

Oh fuck. I think that’s past cute threshold. That is adorable. She knows I think that thats adorable. 

“It’s hard not to. We bought it because it was a stark contrast with his abrasive personality. That was the intention. Good to know it worked!” She cackles. 

I remember him sleeping. Brewing the coffee. Watching movies relaxed. Ranting at SBaHJ. 

I remember him blinking and flipping. His sadistic smile. The way he looked at me when I went into the basement the first time. 

Terezi is seeing all that. I know she is. There is a last sip of her coffee before she speaks. 

“The personalities are actually two halves of the same person. They have the same core, but are divided by what they believe is the priority. They are both him in their own merits. It’s like the rational side and the emotional side. Or like, his moral side and his survivalist side. His past and present selves. But they are both him which means that, no matter who’s taking the wheel, if he considers you his friend, you have nothing to worry about.” 

“Why was he saying those things to Vriska, then?” 

“They are not actually friends. He resents her. And the only reason he hasn’t killed her yet is because I asked him to. Back then, because she was useful for my job. Now, because she has proven to be useful for The Network.” 

“That name sounds like it came from an 80’s movie” 

She smiles and exhales from the nose. I have no idea what that is, but I don’t need to tell her that. 

“It probably is, in all honesty, but you have to admit it’s catchy.” 

“I concede” 

“Well, Karkat has been asking favors around left and right to help your ass as far as I know. Mostly from Sollux. He won’t shup the fuck up about it. But in essence, Karkat had a lot of friends who needed help. He couldn’t help any of them by his lonesome, so he started connecting them as an intermediary. He called it The Favor Exchange Program who eventually upgraded into The Network.” 

“How does that even work?” 

“If we need something, we ask Karkat. If he owes us, he is obligated to make it happen, whatever we need. If we owe him, we are obligated to do what he tells us. There are levels of favors and they can only be exchanged for same level favors. For instance, if you need to return a book to a library and he goes for you, he can ask you a ride home. If he asks you to rob a bank, you can ask to use all his basement supplies for three months. If he asks you to break into a government databank you can ask for his left kidney. The only rules the Network have are that you can’t ask for someone to die and you can’t ask for things that will definitely kill someone if they do it.” 

“Wouldn’t the kidney thing fit in the last case?” 

“No, because you have two kidneys. It would if you only had one. But the usual is for us to use and abuse of each other's powers. Except for his.” 

“His power?” 

Karkat has a power? 

“Part of why he went crazy is because his power is so OP, people want to literally eat him for it!” 

“Like’ cannibalism?” What the fuck! 

“Exactly like that!” she says pointing a finger my way and opening her eyes even more. A wicked grin in her face. “That is literally how his father died, you know? Don’t make such an incredulous face, it’s not that absurd. And he was dead before they ate him. Although for what he told me, he was still pretty fresh.” 

“Wait. From what he told you? He saw it happen?” 

“Front row seats. Gruesome. Visceral. Scarring for a mere four-year-old.” 

“A guy can keep his shit to himself only for so long. Don’t dangle this piece of backstory in my face and leave me wondering.” 

“You want to know Karkat’s back story? All of it? It is quite a story.” 

“I doubt I’ll have something to do this night other than open the door when his contact arrive.” 

She gives two sniffs. “Oh. She is here.” 

Right when Terezi says that, the door rings. Wow, there is someone out there who doesn’t just bardge in. I open the door and see a woman who looks down on me, so tall she is. I look her up and down. It’s the heels. I sigh with relief. 

“Is Karkat home? He called saying it was an emergency.” 

“Oh, hey ‘Naya!” Greets Terezi. 

The woman puts both hands above her mouth in surprise. 

“Terezi, what happened to your clothing?” 

She cackles before answering “Nothing if you go down the basement and see what happened to Vrise’s arm. That’s why Karkles called you, fyi.” 

Her expression becomes somber. “I shall asses that immediately.” She gets off of her really high heels, places them on the shoe rack, lifts her skirt and heads to the basement. 

“Her skirt was too long. That’s why she was wearing such high heels. But are you afraid of tall woman??” Terezi asks, me. 

“What? No.” I say dismissive “I think I’d just rather be the big spoon, you know?” and then shrug “But you were about to tell me the amazing beginnings of our mutual friend.” 

“So. The thing is, everyone knows the story, but everyone tells it differently. What happens is always the same, but I like to linger in the gruesome details. Some people try to sugar coat it. Some people just don’t know how to tell a good story. I’ll try my best.” She says with a grin so wicked it could rival a Soul Eater grin. You know, the anime? 

I used to live with a shut in weeaboo, anime aficionado, crazy ninja. Give a guy a break. 

She climbs on top of the center table in front of the television. I take a seat on the couch. And then, she speaks. 

“Now, were should I start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit. Next chapter is even more gruesome then this one.  
> Holy fuck, I'm going all out with descriptions in this shit.  
> Hope you guys are liking it.


	17. Terezi

“In movies, when things like that happen it’s usually raining. Like today. The sky decided it was worth showing its rage for the injustice that was about to happen! 

Karkles father was in his study. The empty room that has been left that way for as long as anyone can remember.  He was a scientist, he was a man and he was on a mission: to bring happiness to the world. End wars, spread love! A valiant effort I dare say. 

The method wasn’t so polished or legal. And that had to do with the way he wanted to spread happiness. 

Drugs. 

But not just any kind of it – no! A drug that could bring true happiness for all around wasn’t about to be made by one that didn’t know how it could be maintained! For he! And he alone had the formula of happiness coursing through his veins.” 

“Karkat has happy blood?” 

“No, Coolkid. Karkat, the son of the scientist, has blood that can bring about happiness! Or so his father thought. 

From the researches and the tests, he started spreading something. A drug that would indeed make people happy, based on the tests he had made with rats using a solution that was a direct imitation of what his blood could do. 

Guess what?” 

“It was highly addictive” 

“Bingo. 

People would want more and more and more until it wasn’t enough.  

One day, one of his test subjects snapped and hurt him. He blead and the guy got a little taste of heaven. 

That same guy got back here with his gang. Karkles father knew he was in for a beating, and told his little four-year-old to go hide. 

Tiny as he was, Karkat went to hide in one of the basement cupboards. The one on the far left. The tiny boy, afraid of the dark, left a tiny slit through which light could pour in. 

The dark would have been more bearable, I’d say. 

But at least, he didn’t have any doubts about what happened. 

He heard a shot. And screaming and glee and discord. He saw them drag his father’s limp body into the pavement of the basement. He saw them eat his flesh like it was beef, drink his blood like it was water and they had been in the desert for forever. Open him up with their teeth and feast in his organs like a pack of wolves. Wolves, I say, but he described them more like hyenas. 

Laughing and playing with themselves and their food. Pushing each other, biting each other, fucking each other. 

Killing each other. 

There was one who killed all the others. He got the sickles in the middle cupboards and cut their heads off. Dropped the weapons in the carnage and then he left. When Karkat got out, that he heard the door close, he took a good look on every face of every head that was down on the pavement. 

His father had no recognizable facial features anymore. His head was a skull with ears and what was left of his forehead and hair. 

Every other decapitated face was smiling. 

Little Karkat stood there. Inhaling the smell of cotton candy that runs in his veins, mixed in with the iron smell of regular blood. He comit the scene to memory, so much, if you asked him, he could draw it for you. 

And then, because that wasn’t still something so easy like today, he left his house, his little boots soaked in the mud of the path trying to find a phone to use. 

His dad didn’t own one. Probably because of the same reasons he bought a house in a forest that is a 2 hour ride for Skaia City and 1 hour ride to Ring Town.” 

“Ring Town?” 

“Well, technically the whole name is Furthest Ring Town, but that’s too long, so we just call it Ring Town.” 

“Okay. Continue.” says the Coolkid while sipping his coffee. 

“You are enraptured, aren’t you?” 

He shrugs and tilts his lips up a little “You make it fun, even if gory as fuck. People should hire you to script Saw. It would sell more than the fucking Avengers.” 

“You set to high a bar for my narrative prowess, but I’ll take it. Now, where was I?” 

“He was searching for a phone.” 

“Oh yeah. And he had to walk a lot in the middle of the mud, until our hero managed to set foot on pavement again.” 

“I guess that’s why he loves that car so much.” 

“Do you want me to tell the story or not?” 

“If I didn’t why would I even be here?” 

“Then be quiet! I need immersion to do this.” 

“Okay. Fine. Whatever.” 

“Where was I? 

Oh yeah. 

Little Karkat in his little boots stomping on the mud and being really numb about everything. Right. He had one objective. 

He needed to call the police. They would know what to do right? A bunch of adults taking care of grown up stuff. So he went to Skaia City – on foot – to try and find a way of contacting the police. 

Little Karkat was out of options. He didn’t know where his friends lived. And he just needed to use the phone, right? 

So, he knocked on a door. 

And he asked “Can I use your phone?” 

Now. People though it was a prank. Of course they did. Poor little Karkat knocked on dozens of doors and all he heard was “Go home kid” or worse. Some people just plain out slammed the door on his face you know? WHAM! 

When all was lost. When hope was no longer in his heart and he only kept on doing it because he had no better ideas, a kid his age opened the door. Someone whom Little Karkat knew!” 

““What the crud are you doing here?” The fucker said to me.” 

Oh! Someone decided to join the party! 

“And then what happened?” I ask. 

“His father gave me cookies and we became a happy family.” He snarks going to the kitchen. 

“Dude. Bullshit. I can smell the bullshit dripping from your mouth.” 

“OKAY, FINE. He gave me cookies, I gave them so Sollux cause I thought that maybe I would puke them if I ate them. He placed us on the car and got me to my house. He saw the mess the clowns had made in my basement, figured I would become wrong in the head – not so far off, I’ll give him that – and then he called the police. Assholes allowed him in to use their fucking phone.  

The cops came, nothing got solved. My dad was dead, I got placed for adoption. Psy adopted me.” 

“That’s Sollux’s father” I whisper in Coolkid’s ear. 

“I went to live with him until I was 16 and could get my license. I got it and moved back at this old sad sack of memories because I'm an attached and nostalgic asshole. 

I burned his research and decided I would never lock a door. It didn’t protect us from them, it never protected me from anything, and I’m never gonna let someone in need, freezing in the streets, with swollen feet and hopeless eyes to his own luck like those fucking Skaians did to me. 

The end. 

Where the fuck is my coffee??” 

“See? You better, cause I can only hear. And what I hear is all the wrong ways of how to tell a story. Where is the drama? The build up!” 

“My life is boring. It shouldn’t even be told, because like the rest of me, it’s bullshit, and what the fuck happened to my coffee?” 

Dave and I lift the mugs. He punches de table and calls us sons of bitches. Then he goes to make more coffee. I giggle because, at least now, he’s not regretful or sad or pained. Just his usual pissed off self. 

“Well, now I can make the story interesting while you assure I’m telling everything!” 

“Fine. Whatever. You’re gonna turn this into one of your stupid role play noir scenarios no matter what I say. I’m gonna pretend it’s not me so we can get over it faster.” 

“No, man. If this is role play, you gotta play your character accordingly.” 

I’m surprised the Coolkid would understand the intricacies or Role Play. I do have to say. I am not disappointed. I take Karkat off the couch by his wrists and pull him on top of the center table. 

“This furniture was made to withstand the weight of mugs and remote controllers as well as the occasional foot or two. NOT TWO ENTIRE HUMAN BEINS! If you break my furniture, Tz-” 

“Anyway. Where were we?” 

“You left off on the porch of some house when a guy would finally let him in. Then he spoiled it with a time skip of 12 years.” 

Karkat makes funny faces and starts to make a hand-mouth, like all we are saying is bullshit. 

“But our little Karkat – who wasn’t so little anymore – didn't just let his desire for vengeance fester inside him. His anger, his grief, he honed them. Grew them! Turned them into his biggest weapons. 

From the moment he saw the emptiness of the basement of his infant years he knew he would have to fight his way into living.” 

“So I was a little shit with everybody and picked a fight with anyone who would look at me even slightly funny. I got beaten into the pavement so many times I know how it fucking tastes.” 

Dave thinks, but doesn’t say “Then that’s something we have in common.” 

“Didn’t do me any good. I keep being mostly dead weight in a fight.” 

“But it did teach him some things. It taught him how to fall, and how to get back up. It taught him when to run-” 

“Always” 

“and when to stand your ground to protect something you care.” 

“Never. The lesson is to always run. If you want to protect something, carry it with you.” 

“What if it’s not a thing, but a person?” Dave asks him. 

And I see their shared memory of Karkat carrying him to his car and out of the woods. Then another, of Karkat carrying him while also running like a maniac. Dave was defending his back. 

Karkat’s voice is dead serious when he says. 

“Carry it with you anyway” 

Me and the Coolkid stare his way, silent. 

“There is a thing I actually learned and that saved my life more often then I’d give a shit to admit.” 

Me and Coolkid raise eyebrows. 

“Ironically and shittily, it was how to control my emotions.” 

“You? Control your emotions? Dude, I saw you cry more often then I saw any of my female sibling's cry. We’ve been living under the same roof for barely 2 weeks. And you are the guy with the least amount of cool I’ve ever talked to.” 

“That is part of it. To know when to let go and not give two shits about your room mate’s judgment because he is a little insensitive prick.” 

“He is right, you know?” I tell the Coolkid, backing Karkles judgement “Karkat’s power is based entirely in his emotions. On how he is feeling. That is why, when in the most danger, he is the one with better level-headedness. It’s his defense mechanism. 

But that also means he won’t give two shits about who’s watching him cry his eyes out whenever he’s watching Me Before You, Titanic or some iteration of Romeo and Juliet with the original ending. You know, where one of them stabs himself and the other one drinks poison. 

It’s the way he has to control his power. And how he became  _Vitriol, the vigilante_.” 

“Oh my fucking-” 

“Shut up, Karkles, you’re ruining the mood I’m trying to set. 

Anyway. Little Karkat grew. And he grew angry with those who took his only family away from him. But he was also scared. 

If they could do such a thing to my father, imagine what wouldn’t they do to me? He must have thought. 

So, when he turned 15, one year before he moved back in, he came back here by his lonesome and went down the basement that plagued his nightmares for the previous years. 

The smell of bleach was worse than the ones in hospitals, and he could still see the carnage in the back of his head.” 

In that moment, Karkat opened his mind to me. 

And I saw what he saw. 

I started seeing things from his perspective, and I started narrating from his views and emotions. 

“For someone always accused of being too sentimental, he felt empty. 

The memories were ingrained in his eyelids for so long. Always on his nightmares, and instead of being afraid, angry, desolated, like in the dreams he’d often have, he felt empty. 

The sickles that were once a crime evidence had been returned to their rightful place. 

Their hilts that were once brown, were now black, courtesy of his father bloodstains. And the bloodstains of all those who died that day. 

He had been cut that same day, when going back from school to Psy’s house. By some guy with clown face paint and a butterfly knife. 

He had been recognized for being too similar. Too alike his father. 

He ran, and hid, and grew angry that any of that was happening to him. 

So he took arms to protect himself. 

Things escalated. They always do. And one day, seeing himself surrounded by numerous determined clowns, that boy had to grow up and make a choice. 

His chances of getting out of that siege were slim to none as things were. 

Would he be willing to kill them to stand a chance of being the last one standing?” 

Karkat had sat on the table and was pointedly not looking at me and the Coolkid. His eyes were far, but not dead, like he was remembering being himself and making that choice. 

“The boy grew into a much more than a man that day. He became a hunter. A killer. Once he got to taste what blood feels like – someone else’s blood for once – warm in his hands, and he realized he was the last one standing even against all odds! That! Was when he truly embraced his quest for vengeance! That is when Karkat really became  _Vitriol”_  

“I fucking hate that name. People could have come up with something more badass, but I got stuck with that instead of something cool like’ Daredevil. I was basically a mix of him with The Punisher, but way less cool and way more like’ I took shots to too many fucking body parts.” 

“So it’s exactly like The Punisher” the Coolkid adds giving him a cocky grin. 

“Fuck you” Karkles retorts with an unimpressed facial expression. 

“Why Vitriol, though?” he asks. I shrug and look at Karkles. 

“People haven’t exactly cozied up to my sharp tongue or sarcastic sense of humor. And people that got addicted to my blood because of reincidental exposure say that getting rid of it is like swallowing sulfuric acid.” 

“Wait, people drink your blood?” 

“What part of  _it’s a fucking very addictive drug_ don’t you understand?” 

“But I thought people would refine it into something before consuming- or something. Not that they would literally go all like  _Hey, man,_ _wanna_ _get high?_ And the dude be like  _Yeah,_ _brah_ _,_ _what’you_ _feeling like today?_  And then the guy goes back with a  _I’m feeling like playing a twilight and drowning in happy go lucky blood. You up?_  You know?” 

Karkles left eye is twitching so much he looks like his face is cramping. He stands and starts clapping hard. 

I know what he’s gonna do. He’s gonna make Dave get high in his annoyance. It’s a bad emotion. Dave is gonna have a bad trip. 

“Karkat, stop. He won’t know how to deal with it.” 

“What the fuck Tz? You don’t even know what I’m doing” he answers. 

“You’re gonna drug him right?” 

“More like numb his mouth, so he stops spewing bullshit.” 

Dave sips loudly in his coffee, teasing. 

“From the temper you’re exhibiting it’s more likely you would bad trip him.” 

“I WOULDN’T! YOU KNOW WHAT THAT KINDA SHIT ENTAILS.” 

“I don’t” the Coolkid says. 

Perfect for me to go back to telling the story. 

“Well, part of why the clowns like to taste him is because he gets them good highs, but after some time they don’t care if they are good or bad anymore. They just  _need._  

But when Karkat bad-trip's someone, he can make them paranoid, he can make them hallucinate and do things they normally wouldn’t. 

Like leap off of buildings. 

That has made him become a target all the times. He had to end a lot of lives to keep his own. And his night life attracted a lot of attention from the Police Department. 

And then, a neophyte was hired to bust  _Vitriol, the vigilante._  

The SCPD was in trouble. He was always seen, but no one ever managed to grab the Clown killer.” 

“So, the fucking neophyte had a BRILLIANT idea. Why not get myself IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ACTION?” 

I laugh, because even if he said it sarcastically, that was exactly what happened. 

“Turns out The Vigilante and The Neophyte made a good Clown Slaying duo. They fought together many fights, until neither of them could keep the partnership going. 

Then, The Vigilante and The Neophyte had an honest conversation. 

He would turn himself in if she could find and bust the head of the clown organization.” 

“Just call them for what they fucking call themselves. The Clown Posse.” 

“Like’ the rap group?” Dave asks. 

Rap group? 

“Yeah. Like them.” Karkles answers. 

There’s a rap group with their name? I should store that info to look into it later. 

“Holy shit. Did your clowns dress the same too? Face paint an’ all?” 

“Some. The ones that are important have elaborate face paint. There were clowns with just the noses or horns. The hardest to kill, the more makeup they had. At least until they started taking government facilities and spreading like the fucking plague. They were everywhere! I couldn’t walk without being afraid of a passerby being one of them. Afraid they would smell my fucking blood away from hiding like a bunch of famished hyenas! That’s why I didn’t stay at Skaia after-...well, she’s gonna get to that anyway. I’m not gonna be here for it, though.” 

“Why not? It’s the hero’s downfall before his uprising!” 

“There’s just one little HUGE problem with that logic, Terezi: There is no uprising. The “Hero” is dead. He died. He was never a thing in the first place, but you made all those arks and fuck it, so I just roll with it because it’s easier than trying to argue with you, but if there was a hero and he fell, he didn’t rise again. He died in that fire. And there was never a  _Hero_. He- I mean me! – fuck saying shit in the third person is getting to me – was never anything but a Vigilante who was angry and in need to vent.” 

The coffee pinged it’s readyness. 

“Thank GOD! Saved by the timing of the coffee. The only good thing going on in this house right now. 

Unrelated. It’s late as shit. If you don’t intend of sleeping on whatever it is you used to bring Vrika this far into the woods, you can take the room next to Dave’s. 

You know the rules.” 

He is pissed, tired, worried and even than he still worries about things like  _where are people going to sleep._  Karkles, for as much as what he had didn’t last, I hope from the bottom of my heart that you never change. 

Your crazy doesn’t match mine. Hasn’t in a long time. But it’s perfect in its own rights, and makes you our great leader. 

Even if you don’t believe it. 

“Thank you.” 

He grabs the entire mug and leaves. Dave speaks up. 

“You’re taking the entire jar?” 

“Yes! You two fuckers stole and ruined my good coffee with sugar and frivolity. So you can go suck your own mind dicks because this ENTIRE mug IS MINE.” 

Then he goes up the stairs and vanishes. 

After he vanishes, I keep telling the story. 

“In any case, Vitriol turned himself in and by recommendation of The Neophyte, made a plead of insanity. It was either 5 years in an Asylum or the rest of his life in prison. He did the smart thing at the time and ended up in the Asylum. 

But, it turns out, that was worse them prison.  

Maybe even than Hell itself.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I should tell the next chapter still on this perspective or Dave's.  
> Terezi has a perk that is great for a narrator. She can see inside people's minds, so I become omniscient.  
> That is a really good perk, sometimes.  
> Also. Writing things as her is so fucking easy it's scary.  
> But it's hard to balance the narration of what is happening with the narration of what people are thinking.  
> Hard choice.  
> But up next, the Asylum saga!
> 
> I hope you guys are liking it so far. =)  
> I'm still trying to just- wing it.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been supporting me in the comment section. You guys are the fucking best.


	18. Terezi

“Okay, so, what you’re telling me is that  Karkat  turned himself in and asked you to lock the crime boss away? Why not ask you to kill him if he was that angry in the first place? Or ask you to bring him the clown boss so he could kill him with his own hands?

Your character development of him throughout this ark is making no sense.”

I grin at his face. Wide and maquiavelically.

“Do you even know why I was the one picked in the office and assigned to his case in the first place?”

His legs contract a bit with our proximity. His face keeps impassive. He clutches the coffee mug tighter and shrugs.

“There are only three types of cases that even interest me, because they are cases of utmost importance, which means I can all means necessary. Those, are cases in which the culprit is either Insane and to be sent to the Asylum, Deranged but have been under extenuating circumstances and is to be locked away forever or – and my favorite – in which the culprit has committed such atrocities in his wake, he is to be sentenced to death.

Karkat  essentially asked me to kill him,  Coolkid .

He put me in clown church case.

And after everything he’d shown me so far, I cannot place his case anywhere less than the death  sentence folder .”

I sit next to him and run a finger in his throat, caressingly, threateningly.

He swallows a lump.

Even with the shades, I can know his eyebrows are drawn together, and even facing forward, his eyes are sideways and completely focused on my grinning face.

“Did you do it?” he says firmly, but from his heart-rate I know, he knows, he doesn’t know if he wants to know.

Exactly like  Karkat , when he asks if I've made progress or not.

Or when he asks what me and  Vris  did in  the basement  that day.

I approach his face even more, getting close to his ear and whisper.

“Not yet”

He thinks he fooled me, but I can listen to his breathing picking up his normal pace very acutely. I leave the place in the couch and go back to the top of the center table, but not before making a point of letting him know something about me.

“If you’ve never even killed a person, you have nothing to worry from me. And just so you know: I hate to kill my  persecutees  myself. I’d rather rejoice on the sound of broken necks of when they hang.”

“How do you know I didn’t kill anyone. I could have killed several people and you wouldn’t know if I didn’t tell you.”

“People who have killed have different eyes. And people who kill frequently have a different smell.”

“How can you even say if my eyes are different or not? I can buy the smell bullshit but how can you even tell how do I look? The only place you touched  me  was my neck.”

“I can see things through your eyes. And even then, I don’t have to. Appearances are deceiving,  Coolkid . I know your eyes are scarlet because they smell like raspberry and glee” I can’t help but snicker when his brows shoot up in surprise “and I know you are a natural blond because I couldn’t smell anything other than shampoo when I got closer to you. No bleaching products. I know that you have sword training because you smell like iron and have calloused hands. I know that whoever trained you didn’t mind much for your bodily well-being because you smell like too many kinds of anti-biotics and balms. He probably hasn’t realized that I know that, but I know  Karkles  found you with a nasty thigh wound – you're still limping slightly. Unnoticeable to the naked eye, but not  to  my ears. 

So, if I were you, I wouldn’t try n’ trick me or lie to me.

I  don’even  need my mind reading powers to know things.”

And I pride myself in that.

“Okay, that’s all nice to know, you know? That I can be more thoroughly scrutinized by the blind girl I just met than any shrink I’d ever even thought about going to and never actually balled up to going because every experience I've ever had with psychiatrics anything's ended up being with two of the most  sicktwisted  people I’ve ever met. And tell that to  Karkat . The thing about the limp. Might get him to come around his decision of not taking me to college tomorrow. He said I’d have to ninja my way there. And though that could be dope as fuck,  ya’know , make the chicks swoon and the guys too, because I’m just that awesome, it is going to be tiresome as all hell and how can he make a limping guy literally jump his way through trees,  ya’know ? Actually, I think I’m  gonna  exaggerate that info and limp my way up the stairs to ask him that.”

Oh.  So  he motor-mouths when he’s nervous or wants a way out.

Being under scrutiny usually does make people go looking for a place to hide.

Who would’ve  thunk  that the cool kid would try to run from the fun so soon.

He rises and makes an impression of himself limping 200 times worse than what he actually needs and about 300 times worse than what he is  _ actually _  limping.

“Don’t you want to know what happened at the Asylum?” I ask, throwing the bait and waiting for him to bite.

In his head, he weighs the pros and cons of staying under my analysis with knowing more about the boy who rescued him from the grave, and took him in.

He bites the bait, thinking this is exactly the kind of training he might need to be under, so he won’t be destabilized by his Bro’s venom the next time they meet. And also- something more. He wants to know  Karkat  better, but more than that, his enemies and demons, in hopes that one day he can return the favor.

I’ll admit that I dug a little to find that last part, but don’t blame my curiosity.

I am  Karkles  lawyer after all. To know who to protect him from and who to protect with him is quite  _ literally _ __ my job.

He stopped pretending to limp, stood still, placed his weight in his hurt leg – maybe to prove me wrong or to finish the stupid performance in an ironic stance – and stuck his hands in his front pockets.

“At first, everything seemed normal. It was a mental institution, but it was still a medical place. They had  Karkat  do several tests.

But it wasn’t just what it looked like.

The Asylum had many levels of crazy, all in a same spot. And to those who are too uncontrollable, to reckless, too dangerous, they neutralize them.

Karkat  did all the tests so far without a problem.

Until they had him do a blood test. He refused and the doctors were not pleased. They said he had to, but due to previous experiences  Karkat  knew that, not only he would end up causing a contamination in the Asylum by just letting his blood out in the open, there would be nothing to  analyze .

His blood is unparalleled. No blood can replace his.

He can never get a blood transfusion. And he can never donate.

They would find no match. They wouldn’t know what they were looking at. There was nothing there for them to analyze.  So  he denied.

It didn’t matter.

They thought he was using drugs, and locked him  up . Tied him to a chair and stuck a needle in his arm, while using a rag to muffle his screams, curses and protests.”

He didn’t let it show in his face, but Dave’s heart clenched when he remembered the Hospital, and looking at  Karkat  while he was taking  the  injection, and how Karkles was trying to be supportive and distracting, giving him the best opportunities for him to just run his mouth until his lips were sore.

And how he’d been a little bitch, complaining he couldn’t feel his arm.

He used the poison thing as an excuse to not take the shot, but seeing as  Karkat  had actually had things pierced in him against his will, Dave felt anguished and angry.

He couldn’t imagine  Karkles  fear.

Even when I see the scene directly from  Karkles  eyes, it ’ s like watching a cutscene in a first-person videogame. Whatever it is that I feel, it’s mine. And I know how the story ends. He is alive.

Back then, he didn’t know if he would be.

No matter how much we try, we can never actually know his anger, his despair or his fright from anything that happened.

I see  Vriska’s  point of view of how it feels to have your brain electrocuted when I look at the basement door.

We can’t know, Coolkid. For either of them.

“Obviously, his blood caused a contamination.

People got addicted.

They needed more.

Hurt, and alone, and betrayed, he wanted it to end.

When they were all tripping balls somewhere else, he dislocated his thumb.”

Dave winced. He knew how much that hurt.

“He slipped his  hurt  hand out of the binds, undid the other, took the needle out and undid his feet binds. The chair was unmovable. Screwed  to  the ground. 

I need to get the fuck out of here – he thought.

If they catch me again, I’m getting drained alive! - he thought.

Karkat  opened the door, and outside, a guard with a taser stick opposed him. The guard lunged forward.  Karkat  ducked. When he stood, he didn’t try a headbutt, or to kick him, or to punch him.

He dug his teeth in front of the guy’s neck and ripped it off, like a wolf.

He spit the neck piece onto the ground, looked to the taser the guy dropped and realized he had killed a person by eating them.

No better than what the clowns had done to his Dad.

That guy was probably just doing his job. The taser stick was set to stun. That guy was no more than 30 and probably had a family. He was normal and wasn’t actually trying to hurt him.

The question that never left his head was: in a sea of lunatics that were trying to kill him, how could he have known?

Not that it would ever be, but what if that guy ended up being friends with someone he knew? What if that guy ended up being friends with someone he was going to know? And he knew what  had  really happened to him.

Would he be able to fake it? Would the guilt consume him?”

“Didn’t he  use  to kill clowns left and right?”

“Exactly. They were The Clowns. They didn’t have faces, names, personalities, families, wishes. When he killed that man, he had a tag with his name, he had a recognizable face, he had a ring in his left hand.

He didn’t kill A Clown.

He killed a person.

With his bare teeth.

For as crazy as he might have been before, that was the moment his personality started to split. He didn’t know if he should run or crouch and cry.

So he stood in the in between.

With teary eyes he looked to either side trying to find a way to escape. His hands and jaws, dripping with the proof of his sins. 

It was no use.

He was surrounded in the next room. 

His deeds so far didn’t exactly help his case. He was thrown in one of those padded cells with a straight-jacket and an hourly drug to subside his psychotic tendencies – they never worked, which meant he was always sober and conscious for his daily torture.

At first, he believed he deserved it. He didn’t fight it. It was his punishment for his mistake.

The days blend in. The only thing that gave him any sort of semblance of normalcy was her.

The psycho in the next cell, ironically.

Their mistake was placing him next to her. If not for her, his self-worth might not have ever came back.

He didn’t know who she was. He knew her name, her crimes, her voice, her powers, her madness but not her face. They became cellmates in a way, even if they never shared a meal, a bed or even the space of the actual cell.

She would tell him – plague him – with ideas of escape. What she would do if he could just  _ give her a chance _ . 

They made a promise that, if any of them had a chance, they would come back and release the other, so they could escape together.

There was just one thing they never agreed upon, but he never insisted upon it.

It's not like Karkat ever believed he would have a chance of escaping anyway. Why bother convincing her of something, right? He was gonna die in there, anyway, drained and incapable of even taking his own life. Going out as he wished.

One day, they had a conversation that seemed mundane. Stupid. Trivial. One of  Karkles  little moments of normalcy. He taught her the theory and basics of how to dislocate your thumb. The same trick the had used to get out of his binds. He didn’t think it would change anything.

You can guess it changed everything.

I know what you’re thinking even without reading your mind. You’re thinking – How could that girl that tortures people and robs banks have come back for him? Well, technically, she didn’t. She went into a secured area. One of those for Staff Only and found that to be the camera-room. She had a view of the whole place. Every staff member that ever drove her crazy, right beneath her fingertips.

She mind-controlled guards all around the facility and guided  Karkat  through the halls. She could control his body too, so he would never cross a door too eager and be met with a guard holding a taser, a needle, or something a little bit less like a medical apparatus and resembling more a torture device.”

“ Vriska  helped him? Her?”

“She doesn’t like to let people know, but she actually regards  Karkles  very highly. I think it’s because the plan they had was  divisioned  and thought by the both of them. Many of the flaws her plan had, he helped her clear them up.

They hate each other now. From what  Vris  tells me and I see in both their memories, they used to be really good friends.

Well. Until they had to deal with the hostage situation.”

“Did the guys who run the place actually gather everyone in a room while pointing guns at them, or was it more like pulp fiction?”

I laugh before I speak “If that was the case, it’d be so much easier!  Vris  could just freeze everyone while  Karkles  just  shoosh-paped  them into submission.”

“What the fuck is a  shoosh -pap? And why does it sound so lame? You could just say he would make everyone go unconscious – that's be way more epic for your Batman-like narrating style.”

There's a grin in my face – I narrate like a Batman comic? Well, Daredevil does that too. But it just makes things interesting, so I’ll keep at it.

“You know. Whenever you’re sad or angry or on-edge and he’ll just- how do I- he just puts his hand in your cheek and makes that soothing  _ shhhhhhhhh _  noise until you’re feeling relaxed and better.”

He looks surprised for a moment, and looks at the upstairs before asking.

“Does it work to- draw things out of people? Like’ forcing them to feel something?”

“Not as far as I know. From my experience,  shoosh-paping  can only draw out of someone an emotion they were already having and not showing or making them go lax. It’s basically a cheat-mode of getting someone to calm down, be it from sadness, anger or worry.

I don’t know how he does it, but he upgraded the technique to do massages. Getting a massage from him is like taking sleeping pills, so relaxed you’re  gonna  be.”

The  Coolkid  frowns slightly and blushes a bit.

Wait.

“Why are you blushing?”

“Blushing?  Pfff . I’m not blushing. It’s probably just the lighting making you see things.”

I give him two giggles cause duh’ I can’t actually see.

He gives an awkward laugh because he totally forgot about that.

“But, uh, you were saying something about hostages.”

“Oh yeah!

Vriska em Karkat  had different opinions on who they were and what to do with the hostages.

To  Vriska , the hostages where only people like her and  Karkat . People who got unjustly thrown into supermax.  Karkat  had a wider concept on who the hostages were. For him, it was everyone that wasn’t directly linked with upper management – the fuckers that, basically, fed off of him.

Vriska  wanted to release all  of those in supermax and burn the whole place down.  Karkat  wanted to gather evidence of the higher ups and bring them to me, while creating a mass panic to make everyone flee.

They argued, because she thought he was being naïve and he thought she was being reckless and indiscriminate with her vengeance plan. She would end up killing hundreds of  innocent  people.

Vriska  won that fight, although, in  Karkles  place, I would have had the same argument with her.

It didn’t matter for him. She mind-controlled his body and used him to do her bidding.

He became and asset. An accomplice. If he ever tried to betray her, it  were  his fingerprints in everything.

She made him fill the boiler-room with alcohol. When all was done, she brought every single person from upper management. They drenched them into ethanol and  Vriska  lit the match.

He didn’t want to.

They weren’t clowns.

They didn’t have any makeup or where insanely high.

They wore no masks.

And without the masks, they were just people.

He didn’t want to, but she made him.

Together, they watched them burn.

Vriska  let  Karkat  go when the screams of those people seized. She looked at him with a content smile and he leaned to kiss her.

In a few moments, she was limp in his arms, asleep. He placed her in his shoulder, ran to the camera-room, opened all the doors and ran to the exit.

Maybe a dozen people manage to escape.

The other hundreds died with the explosion or the collapsing of the building.

He dropped  Vriska  on the pavement and had two simultaneous thoughts. The first was – It was self-preservation. I did what I had to survive – the second was – I allowed her to kill all of those people. Not Clowns.  _ People. _

They both vanished. But I found him a couple of months later. I said she was the next big lead on his case, but that I needed to find her.

He found her and delivered in my doorstep.

We’ve been partners ever since.”

“What you’re telling me is that, he only realized that, behind the mask of Crazy Clow Cultist there was a person, because he killed a nurse-dude?”

I snort. It’s funny how he’ll try to lighten the mood, no matter what.

“It’s easy to kill someone you don’t know. Someone you can’t attach a face. The murders that are the hardest to catch are those who are good at pretending they care.”

To that, Dave remembers something.

I see it by his eyes.

He’s short. Maybe a child memory.

There’s a balcony and 3 other people. 2 girls and a boy. In the dead-center of the table, there’s a cage – in it, a white bunny.

The older girl asks “Should we make him do it? I don’t think we should.”

The younger girl says “We won’t. It’s not how it’s supposed to go.”

The older boy ends “If that’s what you see, there’s no point arguing.”

He turns his face to me/Dave and ends with a  disapproving  “ tsc .”

By the end of the memory, Dave is running a finger on the bunny’s fur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it would be a good thing to keep Tz in the narration for now.  
> At least I show a preview of the bunny.  
> I really hope I can keep all the shinanigans I'm putting in this story coherent until the end.  
> This shit is starting to build up like a Vriska problem - so many irons in the fire...
> 
> Thanks for the support so far, everyone.  
> I hope it's at least interesting to read this, so far.


	19. Karkat

It’s so fucking weird to have  Terezi  poking my brain with her mind powers. I wish she would learn how to be more subtle about it instead of making a point of using them like fucking lobotomy pincers. It’s like having a constant presence at the back of your head that forces you to open up, whether you like it, want it, mind it or not. It’s creepy , intrusive  and it gives me god-damn shivers.

In the meanwhile, I try to pointedly not think about any of that bullshit that she’s actively trying to get to. Netflix is as good as ever with the romance section – which is to say, more tropes of the genre than ever . What do I care? In the end I was looking for something mind numbing, anyway. Better then consuming  more of the same drama-wreck I've been gulping down like it’s shit and I’m a fucking  shit-fly .

My door creeks open and  Kanaya  is on the other side.

Even if s he looks impeccable for wear, her face tells me I have deprived her of several hours of sleep amongst other factoring issues – like the scarring image of a burned person that was for her to deal with.

“Is that by your hands an entire coffee mug?” she asks.

I look down and see the ever-depleting contents of the one good thing that happened in this house all night. The clock strikes 5 a.m. in my computer screen. It’s still dark out and she is here.

They are all here. I might have to bust out some mattresses from the attic if they decide to actually get some shuteye.

I place the mug beside my bed, on the ground  and tell her  “It’s cold already, anyway.” She just stands there “Do you need anything? I thought it would be the usual for you.”

“I have already taken care of the matter of payment, but you must know that, despite the fact I have collected these-” she says, showing the blood pouches “the worry I feel for you persists.”

“I’m fine”

“Bullshit”

“I didn’t ask for you to worry”  it’s nobody's business.

“But here I stand,  nonetheless . If you need medicine to sleep, you know I can provide it, do you not?”

“ Nothing but caffeine works!  You know this !  And even if you had a solution for my nightmares, I probably couldn’t afford it.”

“What if there is no charge for the solution I intend on propositioning ? ”

“It’s bullshit. Nothing in this fucking world is for free.”

“Would you allow me to spend the night in here? Then, perhaps ,  I could show it to you”

“No. Go back the fuck home from the middle of the rapist-happy-forest between cities on your lonesome. O bviously  you can stay! I don’t even know where, but I have two bathrooms and way too many vacant rooms in this house. Fucking hell! Shack in with anyone you please. Or the attic if you have a problem with blind-spacious-tongue-happy-girls or sword-addicted-douchebags. Or you can sleep in the living room, if you’re feeling like leaving first thing in the morning. I’ll fucking help you with anything you decide.

It’s not because I think you’re  trying to  ruse  me into some  homeopathic-bullshit that I don’t care about your well fucking being,  Kanaya .  I just think it’ll be a big fat waste of  everybody's  time. ”

She gives me a tired but genuine smile.

“I don’t believe that to be true and none of that will be necessary . However, I would like to ‘shack in’ with you.  ”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll go grab the mattress.”

“Don’t exert yourself just yet. I still need to bathe.  Would you mind lending me you r bathroom?”

I point at the door directly at my right. She nods.

“It looks like a hurricane of manure came - directly - from - a - barnyard went through it, but if that’s what you really want, it’s all yours”

She enters, stays there for two seconds, comes out and says.

“I think I’m going to try my luck in your other bathroom.”

“I warned you . ”

She leaves and I resume the movie. It’s not even 20 minutes into it when Dave  starts to open  my door painfully slow.

“If you have something to talk to me, just fucking open the door with some motherfucking purpose, for fuck-sakes!”  the noise will drive me insane.

He opens the rest of the door in a single swing and then closes it behind him.

Silence.

“Full house tonight, huh?”  he finally says in  such an insight...

“The circumstances are shitty but, I’ll admit I’d rather have a house full of assholes than empty and abandoned.”

“Hum” is his so fucking eloquent response.

We stay quiet for a moment, the  unpaused  movie rolling as an excuse for me not to have to look anywhere but the screen. Dave comes forward and takes a seat right by my side .  After a moment of hesitation, he asks.

“How much of what she told me is, uhm, real? Like’ how much of it actually happened and how much is it still...bad...for you?”

I look at him actually incredulous, but also d ispleased .

“Why the fuck  do  you care?” it comes out indignant. He is the last one I would imagine to give a shit about that, given the circumstances, and also because he usually is a no-questions-asked kinda guy.

“Because  you don’t look like  someone who killed so many  people .  Y ou  also  looked happy when I said I couldn’t kill my Bro  in the Hospital. ”

Well ... I  was.

“I guess I was just happy to find someone who wasn’t as crazy as us, for a change. And because-” the memory of the university guard being killed in front of me comes to the front part of my head, followed by the nametag of the Asylum guard getting covered in blood “because I regret it. And every day I wonder if I wouldn’t be better off dead instead”  I say low and forlorn.  “So yeah. I was pretty okay with you being better than me in that regard. Anyone who can deal with their problems without having to kill people gets my whole fucking seal of approval for whatever the fuck it might be worth”

“Well- I’m glad you decided to stick around. And. ..even  if I can’t expressly say it for her, I’m dead certain  Aradia  feels the same way, dude.”

“Are you saying that because I  took  you out of a trench? Anyone could have done that. The only thing you actually owe me from that shitshow is the gasoline of the ride.”

“A ’ ight. Then I’m taking you out to eat.”

“Wha-?”

The fucker slings his arm around my neck and pushes my face flush against his chest. He looks forward and caresses the air in front of us, like that is  gonna  change the scenario we’re looking at – which is the wall filled with posters from my favorite movies.

It  doesn’t  change anything at all,  until h e starts running his mouth  and I picture the painting he describes .

“Tomorrow, after classes have ended, I’m taking you to this Chinese place in  Skaia . We can stuff out faces with pork and yakisoba and  even  maybe  lamen  – that last one depends on how fast we can get there .  It’s one of the favorites of the house.  It’s close to the edge of the city, so we can chill about people knowing you. I’ve been going to that place since it opened and it’s cheap, and good and a little claustrophobic in that weird cozy Chinese way. Not that I'm claustrophobic or anything , but even if you are- ”

“Strider” I call a little ster n unintentionally. With what happened last time, I can’t show my face anywhere near the city. I don’t want to. Looking  up  to  see myself reflected in his glasses,  I  hop e  I’m looking his straight at his eyes, so he knows I’m serious “I don’t want to go back to  Skaia .”

He  pouts  his lips forward in a mix of disappoint ment  and thoughtful ness .  And it’s kind of endearing and cute at the same time it definitely doesn’t match his character at all.

Then he opens his fucking gabber again.

“Then what if you took me somewhere in Ring Town?”

“Wouldn’t that defeat the whole purpose of what you’re trying to do?”

“Not if I’m paying.”

I entertain the idea for a minute, thinking about places I’ve visited that I could take a friend. Then I give up in a sigh. 

“Dude. Spill.”  he pushes.

“Forget it. You wouldn’t  wanna  go there anyway.” And if I take you, you’ll just make fun of me.

“There where? You have to know somewhere you can take me. I’ve never been to Furthest Ring.  If you take me to a  park  I’ll get to know more about the place then I do now.”

“What the fuck? Your bar for me is that low? Taking you to a park? That’s the kind of thing I would do on a Date, not with a friend.”

“Why would that be a low bar for a Friend Date but not a Date  Date ? That makes no sense.”

“It looks like it doesn’t, but in fact it does. In a Date  Date , you want a chance to talk about shit in peace and maybe find a secluded enough place to indulge in some sloppy-make outs-session. You can do that with a walk at the park during night time .  HOWEVER! When you’re  on  a Friend Date, you’re either in a real Friend Date – which is the obvious fucking case – or – and this can be sad and funny at the same time – you’re on a Date  Date  but neither of the parts will admit to it. Either because they think the other part is thinking the Date is a Friend Date instead of a Date  Date  and they are too insecure to ask or, because one of the parts has placed the other in the Friendzone and actually believes that The Date is a Friend Date.”

“But according to your own logic, that only works in night scenarios.  So  you can have a Friend Date on a park during day time.”

I open my mouth to make a rebuttal but- none comes out. I don’t have an argument at the ready. Shit.  So  I ask him with the maximum amount of disbelief I can muster “Do you want me to take you to a park?”

He thinks it over before suggesting “What if you took me to a  Museum ?” 

Him? In a Museum? The Douche-canoe? Is this an elaborate prank on me?

“A Museum?”

He shrugs “I like to see dead shit. It’s interesting to understand how and why things die.”

“Maybe we should invite  Aradia  to this. She loves Museums. For that exact same morbid-as-fuck reason, actually. Although I could take you to an Art Museum. Maybe you would learn a thing or two about art and how to make it purposefully shitty in an identifiable way.”

“I could, you know. I just decide against it cause if I did, all the irony of the project would be lost, man! I would lose my gag at reading all those comments full of hate saying shit like’ “go do something you’re actually good at!” while they don’t realize they are halfway through the comic already and busting my views so high up that if my pockets aren’t filled by the end of the month with the  gargantuous  number of propaganda they are subjected to, it must be because someone is robbing me blind.”

My mouth is agape because- that is actually really smart.

But, oh my god, the art is just vomit-inducing.

But I have to admit that, that is a really  fucking  smart way of making money.

God, Nature, whatever forces may be ruling the Universe. WHY ARE YOU SO MOTHERFUCKING  _ UNFAIR _ ?

WHY DOES *HE* GET TO BE SMART *AND* A GOOD-LOOKING DOUCHEBAG?

“What? Don’t come and tell me you’re angry because I’m using trolls as a way to make money. It’s not like I’m tricking them into paying me anything, although I do sell merch ever now and again.”

“Shut up. You don’t get to tell me you have a successful project. You’re a fucking Soundcloud rapper. Have some shame.”

“I could have the shame, same, but fame called my name, and I went to get the door, placed my cards on the floor and people just wanted more and more.

I just started as a Soundcloud rapper, but now Ima be a fucking reaper, seeker of the freshest deals, dealer of performance  eels  that’ll rise and fall with audience squeals of delight, throughout the night.”

“NO. I don’t  a c c ept this.”

“That I’m an actual rapper?”

I study my options in his face and in a single, uprising movement, I snatch the glasses from his face, grabbing them with pincer fingers by the nose-bridge. His eyes follow the movement but his hands don’t and I manage to flee the bed with  _ the goods _  in my possession.

He covers his face and says  “What the fuck, man ! ? Give the shades back.”

“I just snatched them. Why the fuck would I  give’em  back?”

Suffer and be a little mortal, you devilish douche. With a little humility you can even disguise yourself as an average angsty teenager/new adult, like the rest of us. 

Strider is covering his eyes for the grand total of 5 seconds before he looks pointedly at me with sharp ruby eyes. I *had* to tease him “Hey. I knew I was housing one Twilight Vampire, but she’s showering right now. Someone forgot to fucking tell me I had another lost friend amongst the cast” and then  he  starts the persecution.

“ Gimme  my shades back!”

I duck and roll away from his lunges. Then, I use the bed as ways of separating us. He jumps over it. I jump it back and put his glasses over my eyes.

“You know, at the very fucking least, you liked them enough to dignify yourself with chasing them. And they are  kinda  comfy.” For the price I paid, they should be super-ultra fucking comfy, though.

Well. They did give the lens all those upgrades. And the frames are not their works. I guess I can’t really blame  th em. But the frames do suck.

“Yes. I  love’em . The Shades are my babies. Now give them back to daddy.”

“Wow. No. Bl e argh. If they have you as their father, they are  gonna  have all of the daddy issues. ALL of them.”

He moves my way with extended arms. I grab his wrists before he manages to get the glasses and we tumble onto the bed with me underneath. He pushes me down and climbs on top, trying to reach for  them  in my face. I push up and enjoy their cover up to  _ really _  stare.

Dave is really albino. Milky white skin, red as fuck eyes, short white lashes. The exertion of the squabble makes him red from ear to ear all across his cheekbones and top of his nose. I wonder how much of that is actual exertion and how much is embarrassment, until I realize he is actually much stronger than me and is getting dangerously close  to his sunglasses .

I redirected his force sideways – each arm to a side – and his body f a ll s  forward.

He looks me in the eyes before blabbering “Give up. I’m stronger and I have the hip advantage.” He goads wriggling it around. Don’t do that! You’re right above my fucking bladder! “You can’t throw me out with your legs.”

To each sentence our faces lost a couple inches from each other.

Is he trying to chicken me out? Or is he just tired?

“Oh, no. You weren’t just stupid enough to try and gay-chicken me out of this, right? You better have used more brains  then that  when you did this.”

Right at my face, so close I could feel his breath, he quoted “Why?  Are  you chicken,  Mcfly ?”

Oh no . Y ou didn’t.

While holding his wrists, I bring them to the lower part of his back and hug his arms so that he can’t move. By finding his center, I roll myself on top of him, leaving his legs spread and arms locked behind his back. I swing my head to the sides, trying to make the sunglasses fall. They fall into the mattress, right beside his head.

I lean in, until our noses are side by side, and our mouths are a  mere  breather apart.

“Who the fuck  are  you calling chicken? Chicken.”

Fucker, I kissed  Vriska  to get out of a pinch and YOU KNOW how much of a bitch she is. You look unfairly like a picture of Apolo. What the hell makes you think I would back down from a gay-chicken match with you? 

Holy shit, you are smart and dumb at equal measures. That  thought  gets me a vicious smile going. You are not all that you pose up to be after all.

Underneath my grasp he  can’t get any redder. I’ve never seen him more still, or more  un focused.  His eyes can’t maintain themselves on a single thing and fly all over my face, studying my intentions. Measuring if I’m going make the move.

I’m not.

This is stupid. 

He clearly doesn’t want  to go through with it and if that’s the case, t here’s no point. T o stay would be just \- delusional. And it’s obviously making him all hells of uncomfortable.

I  close my eyes and  get my hands out of his back ,  ris ing  from his torso  right after . He closes his legs and gets his glasses back, but doesn’t place them on his face right away. He looks me up and down before trying to say something. I cut him.

“Shut up and forget it. You took too long.”

“You didn’t even give me  a  chance, man! I couldn’t even think about what was happening and it was an impossible decision to make all things considered  beca -”

“Dave,” I call him, and his monologue stops dead in its rising “I’ve kissed people to get out of sticky situation s.  Mainly when I’ve been beaten in the face way too many fucking times.”

“No, like’, I know that.  Terezi  told me the whole deal with  Vriska .”

“Then you know that this,” I tell him gesturing between  us  in circles, pointing to the ground, and meaning the whole thing “doesn’t hold meaning to me.”

His  looks  down to his glasses, processing the information “But it obviously holds meaning to you”  I conclude.

He puts his glasses back and tries to dismiss it  with a side smile.

“Nah, dude. No meaning. Seriously. This totally wouldn’t have been my first kiss or some absurd  bishoujo  shit of the sort. Been getting all damn kisses since I was six. Short girls, tall girls, nice girls, bad girls, older girls, younger girls, all the girls and that’s it. Just- girls. ”

Just girls... Well, I feel like an idiot.

** You are an idiot. **

Dave is unusually quiet and in the corners of his mouth I can see something easily dismissible  now that half his face is covered again : a frown.

** Great. Now you made him uneasy. You do realize you’re a  ** ** gargantuous ** **  asshole, right? **

“Strider, there is absolutely no reason for you to look so god fucking damn down. I’m not telling anyone about this. I don’t give a shit and I doubt anyone would. We don’t even study at the same place or share the same friend circle, idiot. I couldn’t ruin you if I wanted, and honestly, this would do the exact opposite for your image. Not going for it just means that you’re smart enough to not get mixed up with me. And seeing as you study in Skaia, that will do your personal health some real fucking good.”

“Dude. It’s absolutely nothing to do with that. It’s just that I’ve never really been so up-close and personal with another dude’s face unless they were trying to punch me, you know? And you immobilized me pretty good, my wrists are still  kinda  sore.” He says it in a congratulatory tone, but that doesn’t make me feel better about it.  The opposite,  actually .

“Did I hurt you?”

** Can’t even control yourself in a play-fight. **

“No. Not really. I’m fine.”

** He’s not even looking at you. And by the way he is caressing his wrists it’s pretty fucking obvious you did hurt him. **

“Can I see?” I ask him .

He shows me his wrists but from afar I can’t really see. I kneel in front of the bed to  check it out  and, for sure I was gripping too tight on them. My finger marks are all over, making the place my hand was white and everything around, red.

He’s a lot stronger than me and even then, I’m unscathed.

“I’m sorry” I tell him truthfully “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He raises a conceited eyebrow before spewing shit from his gabber “Dude,  Karkat , my Man, I chafe myself worse tugging one on my lonesome.”

“WOW, I DEFINETLY DIDN’T NEED TO KNOW THAT! WHAT THE FUCK? IS THIS YOUR BACKHANDED WAY OF PUNISHING ME?”

“My point is that this is nothing. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Actually-” He flicks me in the forehead, slamming two fingers across it and IT HURTS.

“OUCH! I SAID I WAS SORRY! GODDAMNIT!”

“This isn’t because of my wrists.” With the middle finger, he slides  his glasses  up enough that a light makes one of the sides  shine  – how does he do that?? - and then he adds his goddamned motto.

 “No one, touches The Shades.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to write this chapter's ending again. That's why it was taking so long to come out.  
> I'm sorry, but not really. XD
> 
> hope you guys like it =)
> 
> Thank you all for supporting me while I write this.


	20. Dave

I pretty much let Karkat steal my Shades. I could have used my flash stepping to get them back, but felt compelled not to. It’s scary to think how easy it is to just- trust him. I trusted him to care for them, and even when I thought he was being reckless with the whole head-swing to make’em fall, he still aimed at the mattress and they feel securely by my side.

And when he was holding my wrists, he didn’t actually apply that much force. They just got reddened because it was the weight of both our bodies above them.

Both our bodies...who were nearly kissing and just didn’t because I pussied out. He said he wasn’t going to tell anyone, but it doesn’t fucking matter because I know I couldn’t make the last move.

Our bodies, that were glued to each other while I was spread open like a Christmas chicken ready to be stuffed and served to a family of 6.

My body, all vulnerable and pliant, beneath his body, warm and possessive.

I have to stop thinking about what happened with so much charge.

Nothing happened.

I’m pretty certain I’m not gay. Yesterday was a fluke. I’ve always liked girls.

But even then, I couldn’t finish the fucking dare. It was supposed to be meaningless. It’s not possible Karkat could be right and there was some meaning. But I couldn’t go through with it, so the only thing that makes sense is that he was right. But if he was right that would mean-

Th-there has to be some other logical explanation. That can’t be it.

Maybe...maybe it was because of the kissing itself. Unrelated to who.

Every smooch has always been delivered to me, never given by me and since I was the one who had to make the last move and that would result in our lips touching I just- froze.

Perfect explanation. 

But, that would mean that if I had gone through with the dare, my first kiss ever would have been with  _ a guy _ . But it was a game, so it doesn’t count, right? If it doesn’t count or matter  _ why couldn’t I go through with it? _

It’s- it’s probably because of the setting. Everything was bearing down on me. His weight, his breath, his stare.

His stare. That stare with cougar eyes and broad, vicious smile that says  _ I have you right where I want you _ , that gets the rattle-snake nest in my gut to squirm like they are trying to produce body-heat to start mating.

A scene pops in my head. Intrusive, uninvited and opportunistic.

Karkat closes the space and locks our lips together. He sucks my lower lip and the heat in my stomach becomes so unbearable I buckle into him, but since our bodies are tight together, I actually find relief. He lets go of my mouth to lick at a sensitive spot in my neck, and I moan loudly.

Then, I punch a tree.

Like’ a literal tree.

I’m in the woods trying to ninja my way to college and as much as this trip down the depths of my psyche might have had some insight on what happened last night, after this last image, I don’t really want to dig much deeper.

I flash-step the rest of the way until I’m in Paradox University, surrounded by buildings, dripping with sweat and huffing. I really need to stop slobbing around and go back to doing some exercise. Ever since I went to live with Karkat, I’ve not touched a lifting weight or run a single mile.

If Bro kicked my ass right now, I wouldn’t even be surprised.

They had sword-fighting as a club, somewhere around the Land of Design and Craftsmanship, the LODAC Campus. Maybe I could do that. Without a sparring partner, I’m getting rusty.

I pass by the bathroom to clean my face, drop my bag in the still empty classroom and go to try and find the sword-fighting club. I find it, but no one is there yet, so I pull my cellphone to check the time. It’s still too early. I took way less time than I thought I would need to get here, so I climb up the stairs again, seat and stare out the window.

There are a couple lonesome joes strolling around. I look around and find that I’m bored, so I go to take my sketch book from my bag and find a stack of papers just chilling there.

It’s the conversations Karkat asked me to read. They seem to be exclusively between Rose and Bro. I grab a red marker to highlight the things I think will be useful.

The more I read, the more I get it why Karkat asked me to read them. It’s filled with references of traditions my family has and memories of things that happened between the four of us. I wonder how much he read before he decided he shouldn’t.

I cringe and hope he didn’t read much.

Some of the things the pesterlogs say, I knew. I knew Rose was in Europe, but now I’m certain she’s in England. I didn’t know why she couldn’t come back. Now I know that it’s because of an agreement between Roxy and Bro. Something about the fact he could still make me go through The Bunny Trial.

How could he even do that? I don’t live with him anymore. I work. He can’t starve me. And he doesn’t have anything I love in his possession for me to kill.

But he knows my friends.

I need to come up with a contingency plan for that later.

On the rest of their exchanges they talk a lot about the inheritance of Evil. It’s concept and origins. If they are actually evil or if they act evil because a figure of authority told them they were evil and they believed them. Behaviorism blabber.

A figure of authority. Our parents?

Anyway. Bro, believes that he is actually evil, but doesn’t believe Rose is. She argues back that, if one of them is, both are. The curse makes it impossible for it to be inherit to just one of them.

And the curse is very real.

I’ve seen Bro die in Roxy’s hands more times than I can count and come back unharmed: Broken neck. Shot. Stabbed. Crushed. Burned. Drowned. Hung. Slit throat. And so fucking many different types of decapitations. They started getting creative with those.

I drop the marker on top of the page and curl in on myself to try and let go of the images. Some of them are really vomit-inducing.

“Dave!” says a cheery voice.

I look up and see John coming my way, so I sit cross-legged on the chair and start to put my shit away, trying not to raise suspicions, cause no one needs to know I have a project with my room-mate of spying my murderous siblings to figure out a way of making them a little less murderous.

I have a perfectly normal family, as far as anyone knows.

Let’s keep this lie alive a little longer. The maximum of what John knows is that me and my brother don’t really get along.

“Sup.”

“You’re finally here!”

He drops his bag in a seat next to mine. I raise to high five him but before I can even lift my arm, he wraps both arms around my middle and squeezes until I hear my back snap.

“Let go” I barely breath out. He does and I breathe in. When I get my back straight, I hear and feel sequential snapping and then I feel- I feel relaxed.

I stretch my back in 6 different directions and feel really fine.

“What the dickens?” I ask him.

“You have really bad posture, Dave.”

“Yeah, duh, it’s part of the charm. The slouch of  _ I don’t give a shit _  is essential to  _ being cool _ . That’s not what I meant. Where did you learn how to do this?”

He shows me a giddy smile before spilling the beans “I’m gonna go out with a girl from med! Her name is Yenn. She’s half japanese, and she’s so pretty and fun and beautiful and smart and gorgeous and nerdy and awesome and-”

“John. Eggbert. Egghead. Dude. Ma’Man.” to each try at calling him I snapped my fingers. Eventually, he stopped “I get it. She’s a bombass bitch who just wooed your briefs out of your pants and whom you could wax poetics about for as long as your tongue was inside your mouth instead of hers.”

He laughs and says “I hope when the time comes I can wax absolutely no poetics then.”

I roll my eyes and then I realize I’m dumb. He can’t see I’m rolling my eyes if they’re covered.  So I say “Eye roll.”

“You’re just jealous cause I have a date.”

“You are naïve if you think I’m looking for a date.”

“Well, what are you looking for?”

I get really close to him and whisper “Have you ever heard of a wonder called- wait for it... - Locker-room sex?” he pushes me away making a loud “Eeeeeeeew.”

My face could be described with the same adjectives used to describe a boulder, but I still say “What? Are you telling me my dreams are invalid? Are you. Telling me. My dreams are worthless, John? That they are wrong? That the little me that used to sneak watch American Pie alone in his room and dream of doing some of the kinky shit they did, that kid, was wrong?”

“Dave, how old where you when you watched that?”

“I donno. Maybe 10?”

“Me too, and 10-year-old me already knew that, that movie, sucked.”

We keep silent for a minute, just staring at each other. Then I say “We’re not friends anymore” and start walking out of the class.

“Daaaaave. Don’t do that to me, man!”

“I’m joking but how can you betray me like that? And worse! 10-year-old you!” To say that, I started walking backwards and didn’t notice I was approaching someone.  So we bumped. John saw who it was and held my hand. I stood and he kept pulling “We need to leave.”

“I dropped something. I can’t just leave’em.”

He looks at me, looks behind me, lets my hand go and vanishes. I look back and see a bombass brunette with perfectly straightcut hair and purple nail polish. I dropped a bunch of her books and when I went to catch them, she didn’t go with me. She actually stood and waited.

I immediately didn’t like her.

With all the thick covered books staked in my left hand, she actually led her blue eyes at me. She looked surprised, and upon actually seeing me, her whole attitude changed. I hate it that it happened like this, but I know what she’s gonna do, and fuck, I’m not interested in the thing, but the consequences might put me atop the food-chain.

If this was one of Bro’s dating-sim games, this would be an event, for sure.

“People say chivalry is dead. Well, they didn’t know you. Name’s Ardata.”

I could go the route of dating her for a while, gaining the status of being the Mythic Asshole, the de-facto pair of the Mythic Bitch, break-up, lose my everything to her, first-given-kiss, first- french -kiss, virginity, but stick with the accumulated power, maintaining myself and maybe even hoisting my friends up.

That could actually be really good later on when I need contacts to produce my movies.

But just looking at her I can tell there are two problems. She’s  gonna  try to make me into her personal fucking  buttler  – I can even dig the kink, but real life is a  nono  – and she’s  gonna  have really high maintenance. In other words, I’ll only be useful as long as I’m good looking, rich and quiet.

In other circumstances, maybe I could afford it. But I need to help  Karkat  at home. I’ll probably have to hold some money for any problem Bro might cause and I need money for college.

I choose to stay quiet. Don’t give her my name, give her back the books for her to handle on her own, and leave. 

Class time.

It ends with three people crowding the teacher and a bunch of people sliding out of the room like it has the plague.

“Dude, you talked to Ardata!” John starts to say. But it was more like she talked to me. Doesn’t really make a difference “For someone who was complaining about not getting any, you’re quick to find yourself some!”

“Dude, she just gave me her name. Chill.” I tell him.

“That’s more than she gives most people” I doubt that very much, but if it works for her, I don’t give a shit, that only proves it might work for me too “I’ve heard she’s only had three boyfriends ever since she got here.”

“How long has she been here?”

“I think she’s graduating soon in International Relations.  5 year  course, I think. They have to study a lot of Sociology and Administration.”

Yeah. She’s definitely getting dicked on the side. Maybe parties at other places. Or maybe her table servings are just so vast they don’t manage to see each other.

That means she’s experienced as fuck. I did right to not tell her my name. If I had gone down the Dating her path, she would’ve kicked me less then 3 months in because of my inexperience. Or she would go all Momma on me. Oh my god, I might have made a terrible mistake.

“Dave, are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah. Yeah, no, I’m fine.”

“I have to go. I have another class.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Go.” I need to stay alone.

I walk back down to the Sword-Fighting club thinking if I have made a terrible mistake or not. I catch myself analyzing a question that had not popped up so far ‘what would  Karkat  think?’ when I realize the club is open and people are  practicing .

Now I get it why it’s called Sword-Fighting club instead of the specific kind of sword fighting. They have multiple styles. Fencing seems the most popular but they also teach Kendo and Historical Sword Fighting.

I go to ask one of the members who do I talk to so I can join. They point me towards a chick dressed in pinks and teals. She remembers me a bit of the vampire chick - I think her name was  Kanaya ? - in looks. She introduces herself as  Stelsa  – a name that I’ll forget in 3, 2, 1, forgotten.

I do remember the important parts. They meet 3 times a week, never on weekends. You can do just one mode, but you can also practice all of the styles they offer  –  I think I'll do that – and there is no need to pay. The University provides everything. I just have to sign a form with my contact info and then, I’m in.

I eat a little snack bar from the cafeteria after that, and just when I’m about to reach the edge of the woods to go back home, a girl I've never seen stops me. She has half shaven blue hair, high black boots and a jean jacket. 

I dig your stile.

“You’re Dave Strider, right?” she says with a side smile.

“The audience called and I answered” I say giving he an exaggerated bow “I can never leave my adoring fans waiting.  What’dyou  want?”  I say sliding my shades back up.

“You. To myself. On a  saturday  night.”

Oooooooof. Holy shit, this chick came onto me faster than Jade manages to bitch-slap me when I lie to her face.

“And what makes you think I’ll be available or willing?”

She strolls forward and I stand my ground when she invades my personal space to say “because guys like you, are into things that could mangle them.”

My dick agrees pronto, like she was talking to him instead of me. My head has at least a thousand questions and a dozen warnings. They’re all shut down when she slides a paper in the back pocket of my pants and says “My number. Text. I hate it when people call.”

After that she leaves and I, even with shaky legs, start to flash step my way back into the woods, I realize she didn’t tell me her name when I'm punching her number in my phone. I just name her as Killer Chick.

And then it hits me. This is a date. An actual date. A Date  Date .

I flash step faster.

Getting home and convincing  Karkat  to help me out is priority number one. I have zero clue on the protocol. I’ve never  been to an actual Date  Date  or  kissed a girl before.

I stop completely on top of a tree because how the fuck  am  I supposed to ask him to help me with that??  _ Karkat _ _ , dude. My best fucking man. All the no homos but, can you teach me how to kiss? _

The memory of our faces being a breather apart hits me like a sledge hammer. I already couldn’t do it. Would he even think about giving me second chance?

That is never  gonna  work, but I can’t just not kiss her on a date. And she’s Killer. If I hesitate, she’ll eat me alive like a newborn lamb. Fucking  throw  me into the mosh pit of some underground rock band and leave me to fend for myself.

I have to do it. I have to deliver on the cool front. That's what everyone’s expecting. I have to kiss her and it has to be confident and right.

I start to jump from tree branch to tree branch again, increasing the speed so I can get home faster.

Oh,  Karkat , please be cool to help me. If you  aren’t,  I don’t know what the fuck I’m  gonna  do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angsty Dave. How we've missed thee.  
> I had fun writing this chapter, folks.  
> hehehehe.
> 
> Thanks for comments, kudos or subcriptions.  
> I hope you guys enjoy =)


	21. Karkat

I woke up wrapped in lean, white arms and with absolutely no remembrance of what the fuck happened in my dreams. 

That’s good. Every time I do remember that means I woke up startled like a cat that had his tale pulled by a stupid unsupervised toddler. 

Looking up I’m graced by Kanaya’s sleeping form. Outside, the sun shines a strong light through the blinds of my windows. It’s probably fucking noon already. 

And I slept through the whole morning. I can’t believe I lost so many classes. 

Ever since Dave came inside the house I’ve been letting things in college accumulate. Everything seems to be pulling me back. Things suddenly just started happening again. 

This thing with Vriska might have been a bad omen. 

Great! Now instead of seeing harrowing things in my dreams I’m thinking about them while I’m wide awake. 

But maybe that could be a good thing. 

Awaken, I can fix them. 

I rise from the bed, grab my phone and see the people from my college group rejoicing over the perfect presentation they had and crucifying me because I made them all the favor of not showing my mug. I don’t even answer the assholes. None of you fuckers would even have been able to pull your shit together to organize yourselves if it wasn’t for me, scheduling dates for deliveries so everyone could move on. You’re welcome. 

I put the cellphone on my back pocket and get ready for the day. 

I need to think about how I’m going to kick some people into shape. 

I also need to tell Terezi about The Lake bodies. 

Might as well start the day shoving a whole foot in my mouth. Oh Lord, she is going to fucking kill me. 

The basement lights are turned off and I let them like that. Terezi is by Vriska’s side, stroking her hand and facing her. She suddenly giggles and I realize they are probably having a chat without having to use their mouths. All my friends are fucking psychics.  

“Hey Karkles! Me and Vris were just talking about you, actually.” 

I just give her a displeased look, but she keeps talking anyway “And that you used to dirty your hands a lot more. I kinda like you more placated like this.” she says and smiles. 

My heart constricts and the frown that forms in my face is fucking impossible to hide. “Karkat, what happened?” she asks. 

I let her see. Her eyes widen. She starts to smile because, fuck, they could present clues for finding the Clown Master. Her smile dies when she understands the implications. “How long since this happened?” She asks. 

“Same day Vriska fucking barged in without an arm.” I tell her, indicating the immobile body on the metal sheet with a head swing. 

“Show it to me again” She says right after, so I do. “Karkles, if they happened on the same day, they are definitely related cases.” It’s a stern statement. 

“How the fuck would I know? You never told me what you and Spider-bitch were up to before you two almost broke my door demanding me to became a specialized hospital wing. Honestly, I do magic to help you, mothefuckers.” 

“You actually do” she says in agreement. I was not expecting that. “I finally had a clue that we could follow. A famous drug dealer of the region was transporting and selling his malodorous soporifics. But the kind of drug he was transporting was nothing like what we had seen before. It looked like the slime from Nickelodeon, but glowy like there was plutonium in it. We corralled him for interrogations and he spilled the beans about his source. He was getting things from the same place we concluded Makara was going to use the explosives. 

Me and Vriska went to investigate, obviously. We found a vault. 

You can guess the rest.” She looks at Vriska. 

Well, now I feel bad for feeling so avenged for having her burn. But not really. She was helping, though. I guess I’ll give her a chance. For now. 

“Did you find anything after this whole shitshow?” 

She takes her phone from her back pocket to show me a photo or the room. 

The wall furthest from the door had a painting of a purple smiley-clown-face with the subtitle HoNk.  

Oh fuck. 

He’s back. 

FUCKING!- I CAN’T FUCKING BELIVE THIS! 

**WE KILLED THAT SON OF A BITCH.**  

WE BOMBARDED HIM! 

**WE GOT SENT TO A FUCKING NUT-HOUSE BECAUSE OF HIM!**  

**I** A **M** H **A** T **E** D  **A** L **L**  A **R** O **U** N **D** S **K** A **I** A  **B** E **C** A **U** S **E** O **F *** H **I** M **!***  

“Karkles, calm down. You are literally fuming! I can see the smoke coming out of your ears, goddamn.” 

“HOW CAN I CALM DOWN? I’M A FUCKING EXILE IN MY OWN CITY BECAUSE OF THAT MURDEROUS SMOLDERING ASSHOLE!” 

“I’m glad you are angry, because I am too. What I'm not happy about is the fact you’re screaming for the whole forest to listen right beside her, so calm your fucking tits before I make you calm them.” 

**Is that a threat or a promise?**  

Fuck off. She’s not joking. She will slap us into next dimension. Look at her face. If she was anymore head-over-heals for the spider-bitch they would be married already.  

**You look very certain that they are getting the fucking freaks on.**  

I’m not talking about this with you! Or anyone! EVER.

**I AM you. You don’t need to tell me anything for me to know that you know they are definitely getting their freak on.**  

LALALALALALALA. YOU ARE A WEIRD PART OF MY PSYCHE THAT I DON’T CARE FOR. LALALALALALALA. 

**I'm just fucking telling you this so you stop acting like a worthless dumb asshole and fucking realize we have been replaced by something worse than garbage.**  

Oh my god. Was I that bad a person? 

**Self-centered, oblivious, possessive, jealous, needy.**  

You completely ignored murdersome, reckless, skeevy. Those are your fault. 

**Are you the blind one? Those are all the qualities she sees in her!**  

1 WOULDN’T S4Y QU4L1T13S. MOR3 L1K3 CH4R4CT3R TR41TS. 

PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN’T HEAR ALL THAT. I WILL PERFORM AN ACT OF HUMAN COMBUSTION RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW, THROUGHT THE SHEER POWER OF SHAME. 

1 D1DN’T H34R 4NYTH1NG, BUT NOW YOU GOT M3 CUR1OUS. WH4T COULD BOTH YOUR BR41NS BE SCH3M1NG >:? 

**NOTHING WORTH ANYBODIES TIME IF WE ARE DEPENDING ON THIS WEEPY ASSHOLE.**  

H3Y V1TR1OL! 

**YOU DO KNOW I’M STILL JUST KARKAT, RIGHT? JUST- A USEFUL VERSION OF THIS SAD MEAT SACK.**  

FUCK YOU. 

1 JUST C4M3 BY TO T3LL YOU TO G3T YOUR H34D OUT OF YOUR 4SS. TH4T W4S 4LL. 

… 

**…**  

YOU THINK WE CAN STILL PERFOM THE COMBUSTION? 

**CLOSE YOUR EYES TIGHT. I’M GONNA TRY TO GET OUR BLOOD TO BECAME AN EXPLOSIVE.**  

I close my eyes tight and wait for a couple seconds. 

Nothing. 

I think he failed. 

“Feeling calmer?” 

“I guess.” I lie. 

“Then answer: how to proceed?” 

**Okay, yeah, I failed to combust us, but I do** **wanna** **blow that piece of shit to smithereens.**  

Perfect. Aligned at last. 

**Took you long enough.**  

Shut up and think. 

**You know that’s not how that works.**  

JUST!- LOOK, Makara is back. We managed to bust his plan last time, but we don’t know if he has it now all new and improved. 

**Okay, okay! Let me think. If he is back, he’s not coming back to the public eye. To stay undercover would be advantageous for him. The fucker will surely try to get his schematics back so he will have the maps of the bombs in his hands again.**  

Is it possible that he’ll still try to build the fucking Clown Church for the harbinger of the apocalypse? 

**Very.**  

Shit. 

**Now, probably more than ever. Since we weren’t there to make crowd control of those pests they probably increased in number. If things are as bad as we are thinking, they probably have enough people to petition the current Mayor for a church.**  

**And from what** **Tz** **says, it’s drug money. Sopor money.**  

I can’t believe he did it. I can’t fucking believe he managed to synthesize that shit again. 

Terezi is waiting for an answer. “We need to do things by two fronts. We need to protect the schematics from the demolition project of Sollux’s neighborhood and we need to find the source of the sopor production and destroy it. Everything. Burn every last ounce of it.” 

“Who had the schematics last?” 

“I think Sollux?” 

“I’ll take care of finding the source of the sopor production.” 

“Through my fucking corpse you will. Kanaya is coming with me to do that.” 

“You wanna put the healer at the front of the party? Are you stupid?” 

“Vriska is out for the count, which means that you would risk your neck alone. At least if it is me and Kanaya, she’s a fucking kickass vampire with a chainsaw.” 

“She’s also the only one that could have performed surgery. If she gets hurt, who’s taking care of her?” 

That argument makes me stop. Okay. I need to rethink this. 

“What if it’s me and you?” Silence. Shit. Charged question. “I know I fucked up, last time, okay. But we used to be a good team. We go in, sound an alarm or scare the shit out of every single mothefucker in there, set some thermites and BOOM. My nightmares go up in flames.” 

She shakes her head “No. We need to secure evidence, Karkat.” 

“THEY HAVE THE POLICE!” OH SHIT! I place both my hands above my mouth and look at Vriska, then at her “shit, sorry. But they have the police. It’s not because you are this Justicar of Skaia that the SCPD is going to support you. If you’re working with clowns – and you are – they will try to sabotage you. And if they do manage to dig into you they are gonna find me” and then I look at the unconscious body by our side “and her.” 

“If we go together, I take the evidence.” 

“Terezi this is stupidity!” 

“Take it or leave it.” 

Disgust wells up in my chest directly linked with a bout of annoyance that persists but fades. This shit is going to come back to bite my ass. I just know it! But I can’t fucking sit on my hands anymore. The longer they go unchecked the more endangered we become. 

I’ll figure it out as I go. 

“Fine. We leave tomorrow night at 10. Meet me at the sewers entrance, close to Sollux’s neighborhood.” 

She gives me a wide smile. “Don’t forget to show up in your outfit. I was starting to forget how you looked in tight clothing.” 

“No fucking way. I threw that shit out.” 

“You are lyyyyyyyying!” she says snickering. 

My face starts getting hot and I just leave the room. Fuck all of this. I grab my phone because I actually don’t know if Sollux has the schematics or not. I hope he does. 

\-  carcino Geneticist [CG]  began pestering twin Armaggedons [TA] - 

CG: HEY! ASSHOLE. I NEED TO KNOW  A THING. 

TA: then go google iit. II don’t have to do 2hiit for you. You’re already oweiing me too much. 

CG: ALL OUT TRANSACTIONS HAVE BEEN PERFECTLY EXECUTED! YOU’RE JUST CRYING CAUSE YOU WOULDN’T KNOW HOW TO BARGAIN A KISS WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND IF SHE WAS PULLING A SOUR GRAPES ACT ON YOU. 

TA: fef loved the park, btw. 

CG: OH. NICE TO KNOW. 

TA: ii hated iit, though. 

CG: YOU WERE NOT THE TARGETED AUDIENCE, IDIOT. 

TA: anyway. What do you want thii2 tiime? 

CG: I NEED TO KNOW IF THE SCHEMATICS ARE WITH YOU. 

TA: 2chematiic2? For what? 

CG: PLAYING BOMBERMAN 64 ACROSS YOUR STREET. BLOWING YOUR NEIGHBOURHOOD, YOU MORON! 

TA: oh. That 2hiit? What do you need that for? 

CG: MAKARA MIGHT OR MIGHT NOT HAVE RETURNED FROM A DEATH BY SCIKLE DECAPITATION. 

TA: … 

TA: why can’t the people you kiill 2tay dead? Are you thii2 u2ele22 at kiilliing people? 

CG: FUCK OFF. I DON’T KNOW HOW THAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED EITHER, BUT TEREZI FOUND HIS MARKINGS IN THE SEWERS. EITHER HE IS BACK OR HE HAD SOME PUPIL THAT DECIDED ‘HEY! WHY NOT FOLLOW IN THE STEPS OF MY MURDER HAPPY, CRAZY FATHER FIGURE? IT MIGHT BE FUN TO BEAT HIS OPPOSERS INTO A BLOODY PULP, RIGHT?’ 

CG: I HATE EITHER OPTION. 

CG: JUST TELL ME YOU HAVE THE GOD DAMNED FUCKING PIECE OF BLUE PAPER. 

TA: ii totally have the ‘GOD DAMNED FUCKING PIECE OF BLUE PAPER’ that you 2peak 2o fondly of. 

CG: … YOU DON’T HAVE IT???? 

TA: of cour2e not? Why would ii bother wiith iit iin the fii2t place? 

CG: BECAUSE ITS YOUR FUCKING NEIGHBOURHOOD YOU MORON! WHAT THE FUCK, SOLLUX?? 

TA: we 2hould have ju2t burned the fuckiing thiing. 

CG: BUT WE DIDN’T, AND YOU DON’T HAVE IT, I DON’T HAVE IT, TEREZI DEFINITELY DOESN’T FUCKING HAVE IT SO THE QUESTION IS: WHO HAS IT? 

TA: ii thiink ii know who, but you wiill hate to know. 

CG: JUST SAY IT! 

TA: the 2weaty dude. 

CG: … HOW? 

TA: he may or may not have a2ked iit a2 payment for a 2erviice II had hiim do for me... 

CG: DHUOGFAOJHGSOHIAFBKJNANJLBHGAGRJGBHAERFJHGERJBKAEJBKGFDEKJBHFDHJUADVFBJHAGJUHAFHJUAGKJBHAHJUVAFIUHJAVF 

CG: IM GOING TO FIND YOU 

CG: AND WHEN I DO 

CG: IM GOING TO FUCKING SMITE YOU! 

CG: HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? 

CG: ITS MOTHER FUCKING EQUIUS! 

CG: DO YOU HATE ME THIS MUCH? 

CG: IF YOU WANNA FUCK ME UP, *TAKE ME TO DINNER FIRST!* 

-carcino Geneticist [CG]  ceased pestering  twin Armaggedons [TA]- 

 

I swing my arm and launch my cellphone directly across the living room, aiming at the couch and face-palm. I’m not made of fucking money so I can spare to break my smartphone. 

The door opens swiftly and Dave enters. He looks like he just ran a marathon: flushed cheeks, breathless and sweaty. Even then the fucker manages to look composed in his back-slouch. 

“Sup.” 

“Why the fuck to you look like you crawled out of a too-deep-pond of piss and self-hatred?” 

“Gotta keep the bod in shape, y’know? Been doing some sweet-ass jogging above tree-tops since my nest-mate decided I wasn’t worth being in his sweet ride. Not a big deal. If I can’t make this distance how will I have stamina to deal with the perpetual pebble in my shoe that is my Bro, right?  

Or get laid. 

Cause I have a date. 

And I need your help. 

Cause you’re the romance expert.” 

“Exactly. The romance expert. If you just wanna get laid, you’re on your own, asshole. I hate one-night standers. If you’re just gonna use my skills to break this girl’s heart I can only tell you to go suck your own dick.” 

He unslings his side-bag, lets it fall to the ground and clearly breaks his whole persona because he starts to actually freak out. 

“She’s a Ramona type person, Man! If you don’t help me woo her panties out, I’m not coming back home! She’s going to leave me to fend for myself in a mosh-pit of some underground rock band that is so out of the books it’s got to have been assembled on the spot and people just happen to know how to play an instrument other their own handles” is _handle_  his penis comparative? 

He falls to the ground on spread knees and his impassive face right back on the spot. His hands are like the ones praising The Lord and he says “Karkat, Lord of Romance and Pussy, please guide me in these desperate times, for I shall present whatever you wish as an offering in exchange for your guidance.” 

“Are you, in a very fucking backhanded way, asking me for a favor?” 

“Duh.” 

Hum. There could be something in this for me. 

His hands fall back between his legs while he waits for my answer. 

“How long are we talking about until the date?” 

“I don’t know. She said she’ll text me. Or for me to text her.” 

“If I'm gonna help you, first, you need to take a fucking shower. You stink of sweat and sleep deprivation.” 

“You’re one to talk. Sleep deprivation is your usual musk.” he gets back on his feet without putting his hands on the floor, grabs the bag and heads upstairs. 

“I’ll have you know I had a fucking amazing night of sleep, asshole.” 

“Wow. What hit you up the head?” 

“I’ll tell you after you stop smelling like a western horse back” 

He vanishes from sight and I go back to thinking how can I solve the sweaty, burly, elitist and uncomfortable problem I have in hands. I probably should let Tz know about this too. 

I also need to ask Dave if he finished reading that shitshow of a family drama wreck. Fuck. Some things were so twisted that I don’t know how he does it. 

How the fuck am I going to convince a person that probably killed more people than I did not to kill someone they’ve been taught their whole life to kill? 

In his head, is either that, or suicide. 

And he is keen on the whole suicide front. How come someone can be that into the idea of getting their head chopped right off? A chill runs up my spine just thinking about it. 

If he did that, we would lose anyway, because that would mean I couldn’t stop Dave from killing someone. And if I pulled an almost dead body from a grave only to see that grave be filled by someone else-  

I don’t think I would ever be able to forgive myself. Or him. But I think mostly myself, because it would be a blatant show of my incompetence. 

I need to find a way to avoid having him kill someone at all costs. 

I just hope I’m enough to make that happen. 


	22. Dave

I get out of the steamy bathroom and dry my hair in the towel as best as I can. Going to college on foot is going to be more demanding than I thought, but I needed the extra mile, so it’s not really a complaint. 

Talking to Karkat about the real issue, on the other hand... Oh my. He almost chewed my head off when I asked for simple romance counseling. 

I should come up with a plan B in case he backs down but, he said kisses were meaningless for him, right? So maybe there’s a chance he’ll be up to it. 

But...HOW DO I BRING IT UP? 

“WAW. You really do like this girl, don’t you?” I look up to see Karkat say. 

“I guess.” I don’t know. She’s good looking, and has a personality and definitely wants to go down on me, and how could I say I don’t like the combination of those aspects, right? But it’s not what he meant and everything just makes me...uncomfortable. 

I need to push past it. Past the layer of shame and doubt just cause I'm dealing with uncertainty. 

“You guess? Get a spine, Strider. You either like her or you don’t.” 

“I like her” for all purposes, until I get laid, is all he has to believe. 

“You said she’s a Ramona-like character, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then you guys are highly likely getting freaky on the first date” he states. 

“Only if I can make to the end of it without her getting those boots to kick my ass.” 

“What is the size of the coaching you’re asking for? How much do I have to help you with? And just so you know: I don’t do the weird fucking bug-in-the-ear shit. On dates, you’re on your own.” 

“Okay. Yeah. Okay. That’s actually not something I would ask you. I think that shit’s freaky too. But I need all the coaching. How to dress, what to say, do I get to be handsy? Don't I? How to kiss. The whole package deal.” There. The truth is out. 

“How to kiss?” He asks as if he needs more clarification. My face heats when I start to answer “Close the door” I tell him. 

His face shows me he gets that I’m about to be serious, so he closes the door and sits in the bed by my side without making a comment while a take a deep breath. 

Even with the Shades in my face I still can’t look at him, so my eyes travel down. 

“I wasn’t really all that honest with you, but the story boils down to: I’ve never really kissed a girl before. And don’t laugh, because it might sound funny but it’s really not. Truth is that I wasn’t really in the mindset to go and hook up with someone cause things started escalating in the training area. And I couldn’t just bring someone to the den cause Bro was there. I might be putting her I danger, you know? 

6 months before graduation a group of girls that liked me decided they would steal peckers from me. It was really weird and I felt kinda violated but I also kinda get it? I never gave one of them a thought and since they would probably never gonna see me again they just- risked it. 

Once a month a girl I could never recognize the face would just come up to me in the hallways and plant one on me. I never even learned their names. 

So it’s not like I've never had a kiss. 

I just never got to give one. 

And now I'm too late. I lost the window of opportunity to actually acquire that skill. And I don’t know how to remedy the situation! Cause she is going to be expecting someone confident and experienced about this shit. And I’m just- not. And there’s only so much you can fake. And I can’t fake this shit.” 

“Dave. You do realize the favor you’re asking involves me letting you kiss me and that I’ll essentially be taking your first kiss. You know that, right? And that I still get to ask you something in return that gets to be of equal importance, right??” He sounds befuddled. 

I swallow my shame together with a lump in my dry throat and tell him “Yeah.” 

“I do already have a favor in mind as pay up, though. If you really wanna go through with this bullshit.” 

“You do?” I ask and he nods. 

“Remember I told you I had a good night of sleep? It’s got to do with that.” 

I nod in return and let him continue. He sighs before explaining “Apparently, I don’t produce enough of a certain hormone during my sleep-cycles. And that hormone inhibits nightmares.” 

“Serotonin. The hormone of happiness.” I provide. 

“Right. And since I don’t produce enough of it, I get nighterrors. And since I wake up from them every 50 minutes or so, I can never have one fucking fulfilling night of sleep. The bastards just keep coming back endlessly. 

And because my blood is a piece of shit, it doesn’t allow me to get myself drugged, unless it’s with something as strong as itself. So I can’t take drugs to sleep. 

I thought it was bullshit when she told me, but Kanaya said she had the solution for my sleeping problem. There is only one set-back. It needs someone to sleep in the same room I do.” He looks down to his own lap, gets a little red and keeps talking “In the same bed” he closes his eyes and gets even redder “hugging me.” 

“So like’ sleep cuddles?” 

“YES!” he covers his face with both hands “But why can’t you be more sensible about this shit?” 

“I don’t know what you’re ashamed of. I’m the one who literally asked you to teach me how to give a kiss. Two bros sharing a bed for the exclusive purpose of sleeping is tame, dawg. 

But, this thing does have a contractual implicit clause of confidentiality, right?” 

“Obviously!” He deadpans “Well, now not so implicit but still! I don’t want people to know I’m cuddle sleeping with you. Whatever rest of credibility I might have would turn into a shitty bloody pulp!” 

“I don’t want people to think Imma homo or anything...” he gives me a slightly pissed-off side glance look and I try to remedy that, cause it came out wrong “Not that there’s anything wrong if you are or have friends that are! More power to ya and all that shit! I don’t give a shit what you do in bed with people that are not me, cause us is gonna be a one trip ticket to the seventh heaven of dream land, Karkat’s neverland that is gonna become your only perma sleepy land!’ Oh, by  _fuck_ .  _Please_ , someone shut me up “Never gonna be able to sleep with anyone else so good my cuddles are gonna be. You’ll produce so much sero-fucking-tonin that the Clowns will smell the happy-you from wherever they may be hiding. Gonna make insomnia Karkat into sleep-addicted Karkat. People will think you died, so much time you’re gonna spend with your eyes closed. Or they’re gonna think you turned into an actual cat, cause your face looks like it.” 

“I’m not even gonna ask where you were going with this because we would probably get lost in the twists and turns of your mind. That is a place I have no interest in visiting. It’s probably fucked up like the rest of the shit that you spew from the shit spewing launcher you call a mouth. But I have a condition that has to be met so I can help you in the kissing lessons sessions. And it’s not part of the favor you have to do for me.” 

Don’t be The Shades. Don’t be The Shades. Don’t be The Shades. 

“You HAVE to lose the glasses.” 

“Come the fuck ON, Man! Why? Just leave’em be.” 

“ARE YOU SERIOUS? How would you feel if you had to kiss someone looking at a mirror?” 

“Like I’m kissing the coolest, most handsome dude on earth.” 

“Exactly. Like you’re kissing your own narcissistic ass. Not everyone is so self-obsessed to rejoice in that idea. And they decrease your looks in at least 30%. It’s not because this doesn’t mean jack shit that I have to suffer through it, asshole.” 

“They don’t decrease my looks. They make me look mysterious.” 

“But seriously. Either they’re out or I’m out. Take it or leave it.” 

He’s seen my eyes already. It’s not like I don’t know how he’ll react to them, but if I take the Shades off I'm gonna be putting myself in a position of vulnerability. What do I do? It is better to be vulnerable with someone you can trust. If I fuck this up with her, there’s no way my credibility will stay intact. 

He’ll be able to see my expressions, though. All of them. And because of the awkwardness I’m not going to be able to keep a straight face for too long. I’m just imagining and my face is getting hot already. 

But it’s my one chance. He’s giving me this one chance. 

“Okay. But it’s just you and me. Closed door and windows. Pulled blinds and curtains. Everything in the dark.” 

We shake hands and he says “Deal” then he lets my hand go and adds “As my first recommendation as your romance coach: fucking call her already. You need to know when you guys are seeing each other again and who’s planning the date. How much money you’re gonna need and that kind of shit.” 

“On it.” I go to take my iPhone from my bag and find the stack of papers with the pesterlogs, so I add “I finished this, by the way” and give him the stack of papers. 

He catches it and flicks through the pages, seeing my scribbles and highlights. “Mind briefing a guy in? I don’t get jack about why you painted all this.” 

“Rose is the only person who can convince Bro of anything. She can see the future and for him to have a change of heart about anything it’s gotta come from her saying that ‘things are going as planned’ or ‘this is what was supposed to happen’ or something of the sort. 

Like things are pre-destined and there is no other way or some shit.” 

“You don’t seem to believe in her visions much” 

“I don’t. She believes there’s more than a single way things can go and still be true. I don’t. If things are as they are is because they were supposed to be. But she can see different possible fortunate futures for people who are not herself. And they are all possible to happen in her mind and in this world.” 

“So you don’t believe in free will?” 

“You know how all rivers end up in the sea? It’s kind of like that. Certain shit exists as probability, but others are unescapable facts that have to happen. A single event that can change how everything goes from then on is impossible to be changed, no matter how hard we try. Certain things in history are already written as they have to happen. But there are things in the in-between that might matter to the common man that don’t matter for the history of something. 

It’s like the episode of Doc. Who in which they try to stop the volcano from erupting and end-up causing the eruption themselves. If they had managed to stop that from happening, Pompei would still exist.” 

“Okay, but what the fuck does that convoluted metaphor has to do with your sister?” 

“She believes she can change Pompei. That whatever it is that the future has planned, she can find a better path towards it. And that Dirk, Bro, can’t kill me till then. But he is growing impatient. The longer I don’t kill him, the more his evil stores up. She feels it too. The rising influence of The Devil. 

Now I realized something. They talk about being coerced into being evil. At first, I thought it would be because of our parents but it could be The Devil. Since they get to be immortal as long as we don’t kill them, they get to do whatever atrocities they might without the fear of death. It’s the curse they bargained for.” 

“Okaaaaay” he says and it sounds skeptical. 

“What? So I have to believe in psychics and telekinetic chicks and Clown Church and you can’t even fathom I have the devil in my veins?” 

“It’s not that – although if someone has the devil in their veins is this fucked up asshole.” He says, pointing at himself “The thing is, if your sister thinks she’s doing something that’ll be beneficial, why not let her?” 

“Because she’s just wasting time. If Bro’s time run out and he starts to think the idea of killing me sounds more appealing then suicide, I’m dead, because I wouldn’t be able to take him as has been proven several times across the years. Even if I could will myself to kill him, I would be outmatched. He trained me. He knows everything I do but I don’t know everything he knows. And I never got to get any training or experience from anywhere else.” 

It’s pathetic, but I need to face it. With no other experience but the ones I have, I’ll never beat him. 

Karkat puts the papers down and looks at the ceiling. He closes his eyes and makes a deep frown, then he takes his cellphone and types something away while biting at his bottom lip, lost in thought. He rolls his eyes and whispers “Of course she would *sigh*” 

“What?” 

“Dave, would you like to come with me and Tz on a mission?” 

“A mission?” 

“Yeah. It’s infiltration and information extraction. Simple shit. But we probably are going to find Clowns. In under no circumstance you can engage. Understand?” 

“Okay. Yeah, I wanna join.” 

Training in real risky situations with other opponents that won’t hesitate to try n’ kill me. At least I’ll get some experience, I guess. 

“Do bring your...” he looks back at the headboard of the bed to glance with distaste at Calledfewlch “half sword?” 

“Don’t diss the Half-broad-sword, dude. It’s legendary.” 

“Looks like a legendary piece of shit” 

I look at her and admit with a side smile “That it does.” 

“I’m going to kick Kanaya out of my room and talk Terezi through the fact you are coming with us tomorrow.” 

“Wait. It’s tomorrow already?” 

“We might have found the place they are producing a highly toxic drug. We can’t just sit in our hands like a bunch of toddlers during duck-duck-goose so we don’t get out fingers stepped upon. So yeah. Tomorrow. At 10 p.m. In the sewers. You better dress something that can get dirty and either be easy-clean-up or ready to throw into the trash can.” 

“You’re not coming back?” 

“I don’t know. I might. But I might not. I need to talk to a couple teachers at my college to settle some grades, and I don’t know how long that’s gonna take or who’s face I’m gonna have to *screeeeam at* because people are *stupid* and never know anything about anything. Urgh.” 

“Tough luck.” 

He shakes his head and adds “It’s just the plain old being surrounded by IDIOTS! Thing. Nobody ever knows jack shit about anything and since my group couldn’t cover for me during a presentation, I have to see what I'm gonna do.” 

“What a bunch of great friends you have.” 

“Thanks for the sarcasm, but they are not my friends. And I can’t even actually blame them for fucking me over. I didn’t show up today, so they had to manage without me.” 

“The presentation was today?” I ask with no intonation. 

“Yeah, I fucked up for not showing, but it’s not like I didn’t do any of the work! In fact, I did a shit load of shit, cause I did the fucking presentation and an abridged version of my part. WHO ABRIDGES THEIR PARTS WHEN THEY MISS A PRESENTATION?” 

“You do, bro. You do.” We do the up, down, middle fist-bump – that I reserve for true bros only – and just in solidarity for his pissyness add “They are all little shits.” 

“HA! I wish! No. They are howling assholes.” 

“How do assholes even manage to howl, man?” 

Karkat placed the soft part of both hands close to his mouth and makes a huge fart sound. I was howling and curling in on myself with laughter the second the sound become so loud the whole house could hear. 

I wasn’t expecting that. 

When I looked up, he was looking my way with a dopey smile plastered across his face and shiny bewildered eyes that seemed lost in infinity, but where definitely lost on my face. 

I don’t think I’d ever seen Karkat with a facial expression I could pin as happy. Maybe  _less annoyed_  or  _only slightly pissed_  would be better descriptions but never something like  _happy_. 

I caught myself on the act of staring back when I realized my conscious thoughts were loitering around a mysterious, dangerous and very distracting thought come straight out of my subconscious and that just decided to chill underneath a sliver of light originated from a street lamp.  

 _He’s so fucking cute._  


	23. Karkat

I had to make a decision before leaving home: if I would come back, or spend the whole fucking day with a skin-tight second skin, sweating my ass off underneath normal clothing and a shit fuck ton of gear in my backpack for me to carry all day long.

The kicker was that I didn’t know how long things would take for me to get to speak with the person I needed to. Bureaucracy sucks and everybody knows it. And because I can never do the things the easy way, I spent the whole shitass, butt-cracking, self-combustion inducing classes wearing something that was making me sweat like a fucking horse lover. Eurgh.

When I arrived at the meeting point – after hiding my everyday clothes in a bag atop a high rise –  Terezi  was the only one there. I double checked the equipment. Double steel sickle pair, hook shoot, high-tech infrared and see in the dark goggles. My military boots are still okay, but I’ll have to find a place to buy a new bullet-proof vest if  Tz  and I keep going on missions.

She’s in her usual black-with-red vest carrying her red sword-cane in her back. Her feet look protected by waterproof boots that cover all of her calves. Her red glasses stand firmly in place and she is licking her lips in anticipation.

“Hey, Vitriol. Long time no see.”

“You’re not one to say that due to your condition” I quip back at her, barking back her codename “Neophyte.”

She laughs and I realize she was here way before I got here.

“Have you been waiting for too long?”

“Eh. The SCPD internet signal wasn’t that great for Netflix, anyway. And my shift there was over.”

“Where is Strider? He was supposed to be here, already.”

“Dave didn’t even send a text.”

“Fucker. You have his Chumhandle?”

“Yeah. It’s  Turntech  godhead. You want me to text him?”

“I’ll do it myself.”

-  carcino Geneticist [CG] began pestering  turntech Godhead [TG]  -

CG: WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? 

CG: YOU ARE LATE, FUCKFACE.

I wait for him to answer, but nothing pops up.

He said he’d be here, the asshole.

“sup.” says a muffled voice behind my back.

I turn and see Dave covered from head to toe in black and very dark red. Almost like it was stained with blood. His golden hair is completely covered by a hood and his mouth by some kind of very dark red scarf. Even during the night, going into a dark as fuck place, he still wore sunglasses. I wonder how the fuck he intends on seeing anything. There wasn’t a single inch of skin visible. In his waist, the only stark contrast. Broken in the middle and bleached-white, his piece of shit sword dangled off of his belt.

“Are we going or not?” he asks.

“If it wasn’t for your late ass, we would be in there already.”

“Why do you smell like sweat and blood?” asks Tz.

I look at him, putting him under scrutiny to see if I can pinpoint if he’s hurt or not.

“Drove over a cat with a bike when going home. And when coming here, I just  ninja’d  my way. And in my defense, it was an ugly as fuck cat. He looked like he had already been run over by a monster-truck with four double wheels. That’s how ugly he was. It was like the cast of Dawn of the Dead had decided to hire cats and they forgot to take the zombie makeup out of the feline,  ya’know ? Really absurd shit. Anyway, we going?”

Terezi  walks up to him and tries to grab the scarf from his face, but he dodges her by using his flash-stepping. When he stops, both me and  Terezi  look at him with displease. The fucker says his motto all cocky. “No one touches The Shades” and then he adjusts them on his face.

She argues back “I wasn’t' going for them. I wanted your scarf,  numbnuts . Now gimme.”

“What? Why? No. Stay away from my dope scarf.”

“COME THE FUCK ON. WE HAVE MORE IMPORTANT SHIT TO DO, FOR FUCK SAKES!”

“I’m not one to ever say that – because being antagonistic to his rage fits is part of the fun – but Kit- kat  is right. You should stop chasing me. Even cause I’m taken for the time being.”

“KIT-KAT? WHO THE TIT BLASTING FUCK GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO GIVE ME NICKNAMES?”

“You have always stricken me as a Snickers  kinda  guy.”  Terezi , that is unhelpful in so many ways I’m starting to consider cutting off my ears, so I stop listening to bullshit.

“Nope. Skittles. Skittles all the way.”

At that I turn my back at the assholery going down and plain out ignore the brain rotting conversation. By downing my head  gear  I see a corridor, long, malodorous, dimly lit and with a constant stream of brownish-greenish something, because there’s no way that shit is water. Maybe in days far off in the past this was water but now, it was just a vomit inducing muck with liquid properties. The walls are covered with winding metal pipes that seem to simultaneously originate and lead to nowhere. There is little to no space to walk on in a mercifully placed curb on either side of the tunnel entrance.

I turn on the heat vision, just out of procedure, only to be graced with the vision of hell. All reds all over. This shit looks like it’s already about to explode. How is that even possible? To try and test the truth of the gear I touch a pipe and regret it instantaneously, letting out a hiss of pain right as I retreat my abused five fingered  appendage  back to the safety of the center of my torso.

“ Karkles , what are you doing?”  Terezi  is right behind me, so I have to turn around to face her.

“This shit’s hot like molten lava in the pits of hell! It makes no sense at all. But from the looks of it, there’s probably going to be vapors all around this hell hole.”

Like if a sixth sense just decided to up n’ exist, I ducked out of a stream of hot as fuck steam that got shot from the pipe to such high pressure, I’m sure it would have melted my face right off, had I not crouched down.

Terezi’s  eyes went wide and Strider straightened his back at the demonstration. With that in mind, I decided to lay out the plan that we would be using for now.

“I’m going in front since I'm the only of us, fuckers, who can literally see the building pressure of this shitty pipes.  Terezi  comes right behind me. Your nose is the only thing that can get someone in and out of this labyrinthine hell hole. Dave, you stay last. If we need a boost to run, hide or fight, your flash-stepping might just save a life or three. Any questions?”

Terezi  shook her head side to side and Strider just gave me a thumbs up. I gave them my back, trying to focus back on the task at hand, but of course that he couldn’t let a chance to mock me slide through his sweaty, long and slippery fingers.

“Wow. You guys really dressed up for the occasion, huh? But,  Karkat , damn. Peter Parker called. He wants his costume back. They are  gonna  need it to film Away  From  Home.”

“Stop it,  Coolkid !  Karkles  looks amazing in his vigilante outfit.”

Terezi  advocating for me. What else is new? But no, thanks. I’ll just ignore the commentary. I chose this set to be my gear for a reason, and no amount of teasing is going to make me change my concept about this get up, cause these fuckers protected me from getting shot through the heart so many times it’s physically impossible to count. Fuck you, Strider, for mocking an armor who’s saved my life more than you ever will.

“C’mon  Tz . He looks like an adult that went through the  kids  section and wanted to wear girl tights. They didn’t have it in his size, so he just got the biggest size of the  kids  section and tucked it away with the rest. He was so embarrassed to even take it that he probably stole it and went on about his day ruminating how he probably payed for its cost by pondering how overpriced the other shit he took was.”

First, I think that he either has a very fertile imagination or took that straight out of either a book or movie, because  the  intricacy of detail in that metaphor was not ordinary. Secondly, I flick him the double birds and kick at a pressure pocket in the pipe at my right. The pocket moves forward to an opening that sprays Strider’s shoes with the white vapors. He screams and jumps, keeping himself hoisted by grabbing at two hand sized pipes. 

“What the fuck,  Karkat ?”

Terezi  giggles in glee, and I get one of my hands tucked behind the bullet proof vest while keeping the other one up, still showing him my middle finger in all its bony glory. A wry smile blooms in my face and evolves to a smirk with my canine popping over my lower lip.

It’s impossible to see any emotion he may try to convey, but the fact he shook his head side-to-side was everything I needed. Dave fucking Strider was *not* unfazed. Although, making him laugh feels more  accomplishing .

From the left, a huge gas pocket is about to build pressure enough to make a screw fly over to the other side. I extend my arm to make everybody stop.

Strider, who was at the back and could barely see, asked “Why did we stop?” Then, I suspended my hand with the count of three. Three. Two. One. The screw went lose and bounced around the four-cardinal points and all the in-betweens. At least, until it ran out of energy. The stream of stark white steam that emerged from that single and very fucking tiny hole on the pipe build so much pressure, the pipe started cracking.

“Duck and run. NOW”

By the time Strider was with us on the other side, the pipe cracked in whole, twisting wide open and easing the pressure.  Terezi  sniffed something and went wide eyed, a warning following in quickly. “Hide. Someone’s coming.”

Less  than  a second after she said it, Strider vanished. A second later, he appeared with an escape route.

“There’s a path among the higher pipes. We can hide there.”

“Take us. They are getting closer by the second. I can hear footsteps.”

He turns to show us the way, but before he can run  off  I hold both him and  Tz . A pipe blows less than an inch away from their faces.

“And *that* is why I was going on the front.”

“Now’s not the time, Karkles!”

“This way” he says and holds my wrist too. Strider dashes off so fast holding me and  Tz  it wakes me wonder how fucking strong he actually is. And if a guy like him can’t defeat someone, what the fuck can I do to help?

Inside the pipes I turn the sensitivity of my head gear up, but now the heat is evident. Everyone is sweating. Strider looks particularly tired. In one of his huffs to try and breathe some  much needed  air, he rises the scarf a little and I see what  Terezi  has probably known all along. His lower lip is busted again and as a side to that shit-fest, his chin is a horrid mix of green and purple.

Reaching inside my hip-pouch I grab him the topic numbing-balm I usually use when I need to make a cut on myself. Or when I have too many of those and I can’t focus on what I need because they are in my way. There is really nothing to be said. He either received a very vexed visit from his Brother or got into a fight for something. Either way he looks ashamed enough as is. As much as I like poking because he’s an asshole that does it back all the time, I don’t actually intend to rub salt in the metaphorical or literal wound. I place it in his hand and explain simply “Its numbing” and then tap twice in my own chin.

He acts surprised, then resigned, then nods twice. Not a word. I turn my back on him to see  Tz  sniffing the air like a hound. “They are here” she warns. I turn the night vision and look between the cracks. Fron the far left, two kids. Twins. Are those...  Barzum  and Baizli? I’m pretty fucking sure I put those two sickos on lock up. Yes, they’re young, but they are terrifying. And just as murdersome as many of the other members of the Clown Posse.

“I might be mistaken. For our forsaken asses, I hope I am, but those two seem like The Twins.”

“ Barzum  and  Baizli ?”  Tz  asks. I nod. “Feck.” She says with her tongue out, showing her displease. “How did they get out?”

“The fuck if I know. But if they are here,  Chahut  is very likely here too.” A shiver runs over my spine, from the tail bone between my ass to the top of my head.

Chahut  is...a  hard  case to explain. A woman that manages to be as sweet as she manages to be  murdersome  and smoldering hot. And I’m not one to say that kind of shit lightly. But that mane of hair that goes as far down as her hips. And what hips. I think I would let her smother me to death if it was in between her thighs.

“You okay there, dude?” It’s that question that makes me realize I’m curling in on myself. I swallow my completely deniable drool into the depths of my  fucked up  head and nod. “Yeah, It’s nothing.”

I look down at The Twins and see them approaching the busted pipes. “What are they doing?”  Terezi  asks. I zoom in and say “I think they are repairing the pipes that just got busted.”

“We should probably go.” She says. Strider argues “Wouldn’t it be better to follow them after they are done? Wherever they are going must be more important than wherever you were taking us. And the chances of us getting lost following these kids are low.”

“He has a point.” I admit.

We wait for The Twins to finish fixing the plumbing. Strider taps me twice and gives the balm back with a tiny “Thanks, dude.” I tuck it back in the hip-pouch. When they finish, the three of us start following them. This time,  Terezi  in front of the line, because we needed to be quick as not to lose them. 

I hate it. Since we went above the plumbing and had to crawl, I had a perfect view of  Terezi’s  butt, but that also meant Dave had the perfect view of mine. I hope he’s not staring. And if he is, I hope my sickles poke his fucking eyes.

The Twins enter a room in the middle of the labyrinth of shit that is the sewer system and my nostrils are assaulted on the spot with the wafting smells of nostalgia and some heavy chemical components.

There are containers and more containers of the plutonium green slime all about the place. They are translucid, cylindrical, tall and with big diameters. This was only the finished batches – I could tell from when I used to buy the stuff. Some were still uncapped, almost ready to deliver, but all of them were ready to consume. Even the sight of the stuff made my heart beat faster. My hands were shaking and I got to the back.

This shit does to me what my blood does to other people when I’m trying to keep them subdued and passive. Sopor slime. The only thing that can put me under. The exact opposite of coffee, the only thing that can make me keep going. I know for a fact that the smell is awful, but every fiber of my being craves it.

“ Karkles , keep it together.”

“Yeah, man. Stop drooling. I know there’s some hot workers n’ all, but you look like a dude who just got out of teeth removal surgery and forgot to bring his drool napkin, even though the doctor told you about the possibility of that side effect.”

“I wasn’t actually drooling. I was in awe at most,  you  hyperbolic nosy moron. And how could you find any of those brain-addled hypnotized fanatics ‘hot’, heh?”

“Dude, don’t tell me that thick chic in the further most corner  ain’t  the choice spelling of  _ smoking _ ” he said pointing.

As I followed his direction my breath caught in my throat.  Chahut  was really here. I swallow dry. Fuck. She was here in all her glory. I had never thought to describe her as thick, but holy shit, Strider hit the spot with that description. “More like the spelling of  _ maiming _ ” I tell both of them.

“Is that  Chahut ?”  Terezi  asks with a witty sassiness in her tone.

What the fuck could I say? I just sigh, because, well, she knows me that well.

“ So  your murder crush is here. I hope she can’t smell your testosterone. You are literally expanding your chest right now,  Karkles .” She says while  snickering .

I absolutely wasn’t. And I let them both know it.

“Am not. She tried to kill me a thousand times before.”

“You tend to crush on things that could kill you” She explains simply.

“I get  ya , man. I have the same problem,” he jabs me lightly with his elbow, drawing my attention “but I would touts let those choice thighs smother me into the next dimension.”

Me and  Terezi  say at the same time “Shut the fuck up, Dave.” He surely gives a witty smile, because ever if I can barely see an inch of his face, the side of his eyes wrinkle a little. I flick him in the forehead and say “Get that presumptuous smirk off your lips and let’s focus on this fucking mission, for fuck sake.”

He puts his hand in his forehead and asks “How did you even know I was emoting at all?”

“Doesn’t matter. Now, you wanted to collect evidence, right?” I say turned to  Terezi . “What the fuck are you even counting as evidence?”

“I need a sample of the stuff so I can take it to forensics and check for possible suppliers.”

“Wow. That’s some real CSI shit.” 

“You don’t know the half of it,  coolkid .” She says with a smile.

“No one cares. Let’s just do this. From which batch you think you’ll have a better sample?”

“The ones on that side. They’re already sealed, which means they are the ones that are  gonna  be sent away.”

I take the vile I usually do – it's currently empty, but I can fill it with a blood carrying a specific emotion and throw them if I need – and open my mouth, but before I can say a single word, the vile goes missing from my grip. Dave flash-steps to the other side of the room, above the pipes in the other side.

I remove my head gear from my head to see better in the light of the room what he was doing. With a practiced swing of the sword, he cut an indent on the lid of one of the containers and swooped a little bit of the plutonium slime into it. I hadn’t realized until then that he was wearing gloves. So was  Terezi . He shook the vile like it was a dick after taking a piss to take off the excess that was drooling over the sides and I saw shit hit the fan in, basically, slow motion.

Mainly because I was the only one not wearing the cock damned fucking gloves.

Strider threw the vile towards  Terezi  from the other side of the room, but she timed the catch wrong. To protect her from the projectile, I extended my hand.

My unprotected hand.

I got the vile, alright. But I also got as dizzy as the pilot of a helicopter about to crash, or one of those preschoolers who go into the spinning cups. Everything fell out of my hands – both vile and gear – and then I feel from atop the plumbing directly into an open batch of Sopor.

Shit. I need to get out of it, but it feels so warm and cozy. It’s got the perfect density to sustain my body without any force from my part. And it’s also so relaxing, I feel like I could lay in it forever. Does it still taste like lemon? I lick it and, to my surprise, it does.

What was I worried about again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at this much PLOT people!  
> Yes. I brought the troll call trolls, but they are really secondary.  
> Sorry for taking so long to deliver.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's given kudos, comments, bookmarks and subscriptions. It helps a lot.
> 
> =)


	24. Dave

Is there even anything to say beyond  _ oh fuck _ ?

Why the fuck was  Karkat  not wearing gloves? All that fucking gear that looks straight out of a cop and no fucking gloves? What? You ran out of money before getting to the glove section of the vigilante home depot?

The chick with the thighs for days looks at the place where  Karkat  got dumped in the Nickelodeon like slime and starts to give a toothy smile, but in very slow motion. She looks at The Kiddos with too much makeup – not that she’s not sporting the Clown Posse look herself – and they scamper off without her having to tell them a single word.

She approaches  Karkat  and starts to talk to him. I return to TZ’s side on the other side of the room and ask “So. What’s the plan? You take the Mama clown and I take the devil twins? We wrap Kit- kat  in a blanket of friendship and I flash-step us all out of here? Or we could create a distraction with you and I take the container of goo back to the entrance. I don’t know. Just brainstorming.”

“We leave him, Dave.”

“That isn’t a very nice joke  Tz . Oh! We could make a  lights  out. You’re blind. I bet you can Aria Stark the shit out of these jokes. I can use his head gear to see in the dark and BAM. We put the clowns in the bag.”

“ Karkat  is never going to want to leave that fucking slime.”

“We can’t just leave him.” Okay, yeah, joke time’s over. If she actually thinks I’m leaving my friend here for him to be tortured for the up tenth time, you’re deluded,  Terezi . “I’m going to go and get him with you coming or not.” He didn’t leave me when I was a complete stranger. What kind of friend would I be if I left him behind and saved only my own ass? I turn my back on  Terezi  and hold the hilt of  Calledfelwch.

“I’m sorry,  coolkid .” She says right before I feel her finger pressing a point in my neck. My vision goes blurry and I go unconscious. When I come to be again, I can see the sky and breathe cold air. Where did my scarf go? It was actually cozy inside it. Well, at least the bruise in my mouth doesn’t hurt, thanks to  Karkat’s  numbing balm. Wait.  Karkat . I stand in wobbly legs and look around, filled with a raw panic.  Terezi  is standing right in front of me with a look in her face that tells me she’s deep in thought.

“You left him there.” It’s a statement.

“He won’t want to leave it, Dave. You saw how cozy he got when he got into the stuff. Going back for him now is only going to get us killed.”

“Give me my stuff back.”

“You’re not listening!”

“You’re the one that told me the story,” I take my shit from her hand with the addition of  Karkat’s  night-vision goggles “ why are you surprised I was sensitized?”

“You weren’t! Dave,  If  you go back there, the clowns will kick your ass in the best case scenario and kill you in the worst!”

I take The Shades off to put on the night-vision goggles and down my hood to put back the scarf where it was – above the wounds. Never let your enemies know if you’re already wounded. They’ll try to use it against you – than I down the hood over my head and hold my sword.

“YOU ARE LEAVING HIM TO DIE” Doesn’t she see it? “I’m not okay with that.”

“We can assemble a recue party. It’s the sensible thing to do.  Vriska  will be better in no time and  Aradia  is all the muscle anyone could ever need and-”

“And by then he’ll be thinking we abandoned him.” I flash-step back into the tunnels with the gear on. I turn it to heat-vision so I can identify the gas pockets in the middle of the way just in time to hear a faint calling of my name. I ignore it.

The ever-winding hallways took me straight to the same entrance the creepy twins used and the sight was really one to make me blow off my lid, but as an aloof dude, I kept my head on the prize instead of fueling useless ashes of rage. Hell, even Bro might’ve been proud of my display of level-headedness. Not that I’d be paying half a mind to what that guy thinks, but it’s good reference.

So, the scene was, uhm, weird.  Karkat  had his eyes shut and was smiling similarly to how he had been the day before – dopey and unconcerned – while the chick with the thighs for days was caressing his insistent bangs out of his forehead and drinking something from a cup with a bent straw. On the other side, his arm was out of the slime pot with a thick needle attached to the middle of it. I shuddered. If it was me, there would be no  amount  of drugs that could convince me to stick that restaurant straw in my arm. That shit was as thick as my pinky, but the dude seemed unfazed. Makes a guy wonder what he considers to be pain.

There are cups scattered all around the place and every single worker that was here before is out of sight. Except for the chick and the kiddos, there are zero clowns around. I’m not disappointed. Even though I was totally  prepped  for taking out some minions first.

“Sup.” I announce myself. “I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll give you guys a  heads  up first. Take the needle out of his arm and his body out of the Nickelodeon shit and I won’t be going around handing ass like it’s cheap cigars on steam promo week and they decided to partner up with Marlboro.”

They all laugh like it’s the funniest shit they’ve ever heard. Honestly, I don’t know who the fuck is hiring you guys, but that person has no chill if this is the shit you cackle for. Its like nothing has ever been funnier, and suddenly I understand painfully well why Karkat compares the laughter of clowns with the sound hyenas do. It’s strikingly similar, and horrendously screeched. A new laugh – a deeper laugh – adds to the cackle fest the chick and the kiddos started.

Behind me stands  Marvus Xoloto , the host of Slam or Get Damned sporting the whole clown make up the other three are. I loved the fucking show, and see myself get deeply disappointed at this revelation. Like’ c’mon, man, you too? Is nothing sacred? In his hand he holds a grail-like cup filled with what I can only imagine is my homies blood.

It hits me suddenly and like a brick to the nose. I thought that, because I was wearing a scarf above my nose, it’d be harder for smells to hold any effect on me, but  apparently  I was mistaken. It’s flowing around in the air like the smell of home baked goods, but also sweet, as well as addicting. Cotton candy, home baked apple pie, cider. Its then that I realize: the cups.

Each one of those must be filled to the brim with the dude’s blood. And there are so many of them beyond the ones being currently held.

“May we be  interestin ’  ya  in a drink?” Says  Marvus , extending me his half-filled cup.

“ Ya  be doing so good. So good, my little messiah. So good.” Says the chick to  Karkat  while running her hands all over his face, literally like she is body worshipping the guy. It does things to the feelings center of my body. I don’t even know what, but something happens in there, and I don’t like it. “You’re so great. We love you, little messiah. No matter how far you run, or where you be in the hiding,  cause  we love you, little messiah.”

Yeah, no. Shut up. “Thanks, no thanks. I’d rather just go to the source.”

“Oh, my man, you know it’s rude as a mother-fucker to interrupt a party.”

“Get my homie to my hands and I’ll be on my way faster than one of you clowns can scream honk.”

“He wants to take little messiah?” The chick says like she just heard me say it for the first time. For fuck sakes, woman, I came in here literally announcing it. Were you so high it made you deaf?

“That’s what he be saying.”

Then, she stands – and holly shit, she’s even taller up close – and from the back of her waist the woman draws a throwing axe the size of a firefighter’s axe. “No one be taking my little messiah.”

I turn to Marvus, who’s by my side with his cane planted on the floor just waiting for the face off to start, like we are the show he decided to watch. “Okay, I know we’re enemies n’ all, and that’s from Deadpool, but seriously, though, is it sexist if I hit her or if I don’t hit her?”

“You  wanna  keep being in the living?”

I nod and he answers “Then your best bet is hitting her, buddy.”

I lunge in her direction with the sword ready to perform an upward diagonal cut, but she steps backwards, getting out of my shortened range. Then, she swings her axe in a perfect horizontal line. I duck out of the way of her blade, and since I’m already down and see the perfect opportunity, I swoop my leg in between hers, getting her to lose her balance.

She stumbles backwards in a tumble of limbs, trying to hold herself together but pushing the container out of the table, spilling all of the slime onto the floor and basically birthing  Karkat  all over again into this world. Welcome back, dude.

Karkat  opens his eyes looking even more pissed than usual – which is a feat, I didn’t think was possible. Sorry we disturbed your slumber, princess, but we have a case of the clowns in here. He pushes himself up with the arm that’s not pierced, looks around and comes back down to face the reality of the situation. He sniffs the room and I swear I hear his jaw give a snap from the strength he is using to clench his teeth. He takes the needle out of his arm in one fell swoop, letting a stream of thick, fire-extinguisher red come down his arm.

The smell changes completely, going from sweet to spicy in the blink of an eye. My mouth starts to water and burn, and my eyes allow little tears to run down my cheeks.

He was angry for reals, that, I had no doubt, and his blood was boiling. With a voice so thick I would have never recognized as being his and that shook me to my core, he made his demand.

“Tell me where Makara is. I’m not asking again.”

His eyes were dead and from the way he moved, this was not the  Karkat  I was living with. This, was the other half. The one I saw the first time when going to the basement. The one that didn’t give two shits about me running into a tree with his car. The one  Terezi  told me about.

His eyes glowed like the light in the vicinity was red, and he moved very little, every action restrained and measured. The chick looked at me in rage, and brandishing her axe like it was made of cardboard and not sturdy steel, she thrusted forward. I dodged her berserk swings with ease, but one of them actually got me in a bout of surprise, opening a gash in my upper arm. I fell backwards, nursing the wound with my hand still fisted around the hilt of my sword.

I saw her lift the axe, and then I saw the tip of something poking through her throat. She choked in a bubble of blood that erupted and dripped from her mouth, and dropped like a sack of butchered meat on the floor, agonizing in the concrete like a fish does on land after being removed from the water. From behind her,  Karkat  stands with a hand outstretched upwards, and a face of numb concentration.

The anxiety that had been coiling in my gut springs into outright fear, and afraid he would think me one of them instead of a friend, I took both, scarf and head-gear from my face, announcing “It’s me. It’s just me, man.” Urgh, light.

He looks at me annoyed and like I'm an idiot and retorts “I know it’s you, you blistering idiot. Why would I bother coming over here if I thought a clown was killing another clown? If that happened and I  gave’em  a reason to stop before at least one of them was dead I’d have bird shit for brains.”

Okay,  It’s  still Karkat, for as bloodthirsty as it might be. “I told you not to engage, but do people EVER listen to me? NOOOO. No wonder I’m always fucking screaming.”

The  twins  round around the fallen woman with the needle through the throat and scream “CHAHUT!” while hoisting her and making a conjoined effort to drag the thick and huge woman far from  Karkat . I get on my feet.

From the other side of the room,  Marvus  decides to finally join the  _ party _ .

“Okay, yeah my brothers n’ sisters, that be enough, don’tcha think?”

Karkat  finally takes his sickles from his waist. He ducks a little and points one at  Marvus  and one in the direction of the  Chahut  chick and the kiddos. I’m behind him and I want to help, but the gash in my arm is too deep. Shit. I’m losing too much blood. I just hope my vision doesn’t get blurry so I can run if we need to.

“Not a step further or I’ll arson the fuck out of this place.” Karkat threatens.

Marvus  stops and drops his cane on the floor, leaning on its spherical top.

“Nobody be wanting that, right buddies?” he asks turning for the twins. They shake their heads, confirming his suspicions.

What the fuck are you doing,  Karkat ? We need to get out of here. This is not the time for negotiations.

“I’m going to ask  _ nicely  _ one more single time. Where the fuck is Makara?”

“We don’t be  workin ’ for that tool anymore. He dead, buddy.”  Marvus  says, taking his cane from the floor with a smile and giving a step towards  Karkat . “You killed him good. Beheading’s never been that stylish.” He adds, with a breathtaking, I mean, broad smile. Broad smile is what I meant.

Karkat  throws a sickle in his direction.  Marvus  dodges by giving it  way . When it comes back, like a boomerang, he just bows to allow the weapon to return to  it’s rightful  owners hand. “I think you missed, buddy.”

“And I think”  Karkat  starts to say, holding my sleeve to pull us towards the exit  “ you  weren’t paying attention to where I was aiming, fucker.” he finishes with a vicious, malicious, teeth filled  smile .

Marvus  and I look behind, and see a destroyed fuse box, starting to sparkle with electricity spikes.  Karkat  puts the sickles back in his waist, and pushes me out of that place. “Take us to the exit, Strider” he commands pushing the see-in-the-dark-goggles back to my face. I change them to heat-vision, put my sword in my waist and put  Karkat  in my back. Piggyback style.

When I listen to the first explosion he explains “Sopor is not only extremely toxic, but also very fucking flammable.” I flash-step right the fuck out of there.

“And you were eating that toxic shit?” I ask while we don’t find the entrance.

“You saw that?”

“You giving it a tentative lick? Dude, everybody saw that. Gross.”

He groans, and I snort.

When we get to the exit,  Tz  is there and the clowns are very far down the sewers.  Karkat  is safe right here. An immense sense of relief washes over my body. Or exhaustion. Or maybe is the hemorrhage in my arm. That was a thing too, right?

I sit on the concrete floor, and then lay down on my side.  Karkat  and  Terezi  are having a heated argument about something or other, but I really don’t think this can wait, so I call out to them.

“Hey, guys” they stop and look at me. I’m pointing at the gashing wound in my arm  “a  little help, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter in two days.  
> like' holy shmokes. I wrote this shit super fast.  
> * anxiety giggle *  
> I hope you guys enjoy.  
> I have ideas. I don't know in which order they are gonna be introduced.  
> I hope you guys stay for the ride anyway.  
> =)


	25. Karkat

“Welcome to the shittiest Museaum in existence.” I announce upon entering as if it is the absolute truth – which it is. The foyer of the place was crawling with bored half-to-death teens and a faceless passerby... or seven. Who the fuck is counting, right? They are faceless because I can’t be bothered to give a shit. Urgh, my head is killing me. Why did I fucking  _consume_  that high-end brain addling, neuron rotting thing. It was a stupid thing to do, although, I  _was_ drowning in a puddle of a concentrated and highly toxic concoction that has as its grim objective to turn people stupid. And pliable. Fucking thing worked like a charm. 

That was hardly my first time falling into a trap but, it was my first time being rescued immediately, to my dismay. I shouldn’t have let him come with us. Not a single word of the plan ended up being followed! And to put icing to the cheesecake of shit, he got hurt. 

A cold shiver runs through my back and ribs, when I think what could have happened to him if I didn’t have enough presence of mind in that moment to incapacitate Chahut. I do admit that I did it with a seriously painful method, but I’m pretty certain she’s not dead. With my luck, she’ll be out of the hospital to come brandishing that axe in my face in no time at all. 

I take a look at him. His arm seems to be healing nicely and way faster than I anticipated, but the bandage in there only serves to remind me of my neglectfulness. I’ve been out of the scene for too long, which is a definite deficit. What was I thinking? Trying to get him to train? That was no training, it was an in-and-out mission. An actual mission. With actual consequences. They shouldn’t even have known we were there, and because of motherfucking Marvus, my face is going to make front-page in any respectful Newspaper in Skaia. 

“Is that a toaster with antennas?” he asks, fishing me out of my own brooding. 

“Strider, don’t pretend to be stupid. The name of the piece is microphone. So for as ridiculous as it looks, and for the intents and purposes of this exposition, it’s a fucking microphone.” 

“No, see, that’s where your wrong. This is the authors take on a microphone.” 

“Aham. Or maybe you are just being presumptuous of the author’s intent.” Like I was, when I thought that giving you a chance at that mission would be a good opportunity for you. 

Dave shrugs “I’d rather be taxed as presumptuous than ignorant.” 

“Don’t worry. You are one of the only people I know that don’t have to choose. You can be both without breaking a sweat. Oh, and just so you know, even if no one is, rest assured I shall be judging your never endless stupidity. You’re welcome.” 

He shoots me a grin “Oh, you flatterer. Only having eyes for me n’ all.” 

“Wha- no! That’s not- Stop twisting my words in your devilish tongue. That’s not what I meant! At all.” My hand strains with the eagerness with which I shake it side-to-side. 

“I’m not twisting anything, dude. It’s just subtext of what you said. If you’ll always be judging me, you need to pay attention to what I do and to what I say.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Curse the blushing that spread across my face while I give him my back, striding fast through the collection of shitty “ironic” art pieces. I should not let him get under my skin, or else he will never fucking stop it. 

Suddenly, he stops me by holding the sleeve of my sweater. Before I can curse him or shout a single expletive, the periphery of my view finds his gleeful, toothy smile while he says “Dude, this is the best!” 

“Dave, this table is empty.” 

“Exactly. But did you read the title?” 

I duck to read a tiny plaquette written “My soul.” to which my face falls. 

Oh, by fucking god. Is this an expo on fucking teenager angst?? Dave is just plain out laughing while I feel dejected and humiliated for bringing him in here. I swear I tried to pick a decent museum, but there was none open in the day we both could spare. 

Fuck. I wish I had risked my book café. Yeah, he would laugh at me for it because it’s really cliché, but at least It wouldn’t be this...embarrassing. In there I would at least be able to throw shit back at him if he gave me shit for it – which he abso-fucking-lutely would. 

He manages to spare a breath in between his bouts of laughter to say “This is totally a take about depression and one of the worst symptoms of it which should be no laughing matter,” he makes a pause to stifle a snort that bursts out again “But its- it's the title that kills it, man. This could be so much deeper or darker but, pffff,  _My Soul_ ” 

“This guy is a complete loser, and so are you for getting a good laugh out of his miseries. You and the author of this are such fucking hipsters I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys met at a Starbucks and fell in love with each other.” 

“I thought you said I was a douchebag. What, I got promoted?” 

“If anything, you got fucking demoted.” 

“Said the guy who brews his coffee with so much precision he needs a scale in his fucking kitchen.” 

My finger is in front of his face before I even open my mouth “Don’t you dare categorize me as a hipster because I actually enjoy coffee. That scale makes it so I'm accurate and balanced with the water and heating time, so I don’t water it down, make it too dark or burn the grains, which makes it unpalatably bitter. My brew is more of an art that this fucking exposition of shitty ironies will ever be!” 

He grabs a gentle hold of my hoisted hand and takes it out of his face, leading it down, but not really letting it go. 

“Okay. Okay. I grant it.” he starts lifting the other hand in a sort of surrender “You make pretty good coffee.” 

Is this- Is this a joke? I search his face for traces of lies or mockery, but his expression gives nothing away. I lower my hand, taking it out of his, while my brain sticks to rewinding the sentence on forever, like a punishment.  _Pretty good coffee. Pretty good. Pretty good._  

PRETTY GOOD? I know I don’t make it to tear  _Amazing_ or  _Extraordinaire_ , but  _pretty good_ is about the same as  _digestible_. It’s the polite way of saying he wouldn’t spit it back if he placed it on his mouth! 

My coffee is measured, rich, sweetened. How can he say it’s measly  _pretty good_?? The only possible explanation is that he doesn’t know what the fuck he is talking about, which makes his opinion that more irrelevant. Or he is just as much of a coffeehead as me and has had much better before, although that would make noo sense. He drinks his coffee with sugar. No one who has half a mind to enjoy coffee for real puts sugar in their coffee. But Terezi was there that day and he could have chosen to not make commentary on the quality of the coffee as not to dismantle his stoic cool douche façade in front of her. 

Why does this gnaw at me so bad? 

I give him my back and leave the foyer of the museum, taking a door to the right and into a room where several stands held drawn pictures. This place didn’t have a single author showing all his pieces, but several pieces, each made from a different person. Strolling around, I could tell, not only because I could read the names and they were all different, but also because of the different styles of each piece. Some were made as comics, others, in extreme realism, and others yet were completely devoid of any recognizable shape. 

Two pieces caught my attention.  

The first was a canvas that seemed sprayed with blood. Some parts looked pinkish and diluted. Some were more saturated and vivid, mixing scarlets and coppery vermilions, but upon closer inspection there was something to be discerned in the garish display of all the different tones of red. Or so I though. The thing looked like a Rorschach test brought to life by a bloody vagina. But in the midst of all the shapeless forms I saw shadows of a shape. 

It was a person with short hair fallen on their face, his hands, locked above his head. But the disturbing part was the spots of white in his pinkish body. Macabre, gruesome and yet I couldn’t stop the gut twisting feeling that it stirred on me. I saw so many things of the sort and yet, looking at this picture, it was like having a glimpse of my own death. I dreaded it. 

I looked away with a cold dread in my bones and saw myself in front of another interesting painting. This one had way less outright abstraction, but it did look inspired in surrealism. 

The painting was a realistic eye that took all of its length and width. The irises were colored with all the colors of the rainbow blending in and above each other. The pupils were what the painting had that was the most interesting, because Inside the tarnish black spheres, the intensities of blacks and grays created the impression I was looking at a reflexion of what they were seeing.  

 Inside the pupils there was the tip of a boat in a winding river that was peppered with floating leaves. They looked like leaves, except that all of them were the exact same kind, and they all had a design that made them look like... like human hands. But it didn’t give me a sense of dread. Instead, it made me feel numb. Apathetic. Not because it had no effect, but like it was actually supposed to make me feel like there was a hole in my heart that I just had given up on filling. 

“You really are into eyes, huh?” 

I yelped and placed a hand in my chest, trying to ground myself from the sudden intrusion. “What the fuck! Don’t go creeping around me, you fucking cockroach. Have some decency.” 

“I didn’t. You were just really into whatever this is. What is this?” 

“It’s a surrealist realism. I think.” 

“The irises are the rainbow?” 

“No, no. They are black and white and you have developed an upside case of color blindness. Yes, they are from all the colors of the goddamned color wheel, or “The Rainbow” if you wanna be childish and plain.” 

“You forgot gay. Cause this is a very gay painting.” 

I scrunch my face at the commentary. “A  _painting_ can’t be gay, because it has no fucking sexual orientation, asshole.” 

“But it could have been made for that specific audience.” he tells me matter-of-fact, then tilts a defiant eyebrow “Are you gay, dude? You got drawn to this shit like a moth of the woods is drawn to firepits or those lanterns people who live in trailers have out on the front of the car.” 

I look at him dead in the shades, and with the most impassive face I can muster, I say “Yes.” 

His face falls in surprise. I roll my eyes and add “And also, no. I don’t like only men.” 

“So you’re bisexual?” 

“I don’t fucking know, Dave! Labels are for jam jars. If you have to put me in a label put me under the “Whateversexual” label. It’s a waste to spend a single neuron on this. I fall in love with people, and then the rest is just perks, so who gives a shit. And why would you even ask something like that? You’re not gonna go shipping me around with friends are you?” I tell him pointing at the boat in the picture. 

“Why are you pointing at the picture?” 

“Because there’s a boat on it, duh.” 

“No there isn’t.” 

“Yes, there is, and you probably can’t see it because it’s inside the pupil of the eye and your stupid “shades” are darkening the image that it’s already all in black.” 

He strains his eyes – and I can tell because his cheeks rise and his forehead crinkles – giving some steps forward or backwards and concluding with a “I really can’t see. I think you’re imagining things, Kit-Kat.” 

The shitty nickname caught me off guard and I feel my blood rising to my face in anger “I AM NOT!” I look back at the painting and start to describe it “It’s an ancient boat in a large river that one can barely see the margins. The person is sitting in the front, because we can’t see anyone else with them. Inside, floating right above the river there are leaves that look like hands.” 

Dave makes a point of being sure there wasn’t anyone around us or passing by. Then, little by little, he took his glasses off of his face, squinting in the light a 100 percent of the time. When they got used to it and he opened them in full, it was genuinely like looking at the male lead of a triple A European romance movie. 

“I know I look good, but you’re drooling a little, Dude.” he says with a cocky grin. I show him the finger and make a disinterested face. “Ouch. You hurt my feelings like that, Kit-Kat.” He taunts, closing one of his eyes and clutching his heart for effect. 

“You could be the male equivalent of Megan Fox and I would still treat you like the raging asshole you are, Strider.” 

He snickers and takes a step to look at the painting. 

Dave stares at it with a haze in his eyes, like he can’t believe what he is seeing. He turns to look at the painting with reds and soon, his gaze is fleeting through other parts quickly, as if he wants a chance to try at least a little bit of all of what the buffet has in store but, suddenly, he stops trying to take things in and a look of contempt and resignation befalls his face. “This place is... so colorful.” 

His voice is heavy with longing. Before he can suspend the glasses back to his face, I stop his hand. 

“Karkat,” he warns “let my hand go.” 

“I will, but listen to what I have to say first.” 

He snorts lightly before guessing “You wanna look at them a little longer?” to which I answer chucking his hand away. 

“Okay. Fine. You don’t wanna listen to my proposition. Be happy wallowing in the misery of being stuck inside a sepia picture forever. See if I give a fidgety fuck. Newsflash: I don’t.” 

“Oh, c’mon man, don’t do this. You hurt my sensibilities. I wanna know. Tell me. Tell me, tell me, tell me-” 

“Okay, fine. Stop being a prick for 5 seconds so I can make my point.” 

He rises five fingers because of course he took it literally. But I wasn’t missing this chance. “Just stay with the glasses off” I tell him quickly, and before he can argue back, I add “No one knows you in here. It’s a small as fuck town. Your college friends and colleagues wouldn’t think about coming this way, your brother would just wait for you to go back to Skaia. The only other person you could find would be Tz, and she definitely already knows your eye color.” 

“Those aren’t the issues. Without these, I can’t read. And because of the pigment of my irises I have photophobia. I get mad headaches. Obviously they add to my natural charm,” I roll my eyes “but wearing them is actually vital for me.” 

Shit. I had forgotten about his light sensibility. 

“Although, this place is pretty dimly lit” he adds. 

“I don’t mind reading you the plaquettes.” 

“Really? Because that would mean you’d have to stay by my side for the rest of the visit, and you wouldn’t be able to just storm right the fuck off like you did on the entrance hall.” 

I shrug it off and say “You’re paying me dinner after this fucking excursion through hell is over, anyway. I'll call it even.” 

“I am?” he asks while pocketing his glasses on his pant pocket. 

“Yes, you are. And you’re gonna put them there?” 

“Don’t really ever take them off of my face, so I never thought of buying a place to put them.” 

I fish the glass case out of my backpack and hand it to him. “I still don’t know why you have this if you don’t wear glasses.” 

“Then keep it. I hardly have a use for it other than lending it to you.” Father wouldn’t mind. He hasn’t used it in forever anyway. 

“I can’t keep it, man.” 

“You use it more than I do. It takes space in my bag that I could I use to store something else... just take it. You’d be doing me a fucking favor.” It seems right. 

“You sure?” Dave questions. I nod and he places his glasses inside, tucking the case inside his jeans right after. 

“Let’s go end this misery. There’s still the section on photography and a section on natural history. UUUUUURGH.” 

As we directed ourselves to the stairs into the second floor he asked “So, since you decided I'm paying, it’s also your job to decide where we’re eating.” 

“Those things are contradictory, Strider.” 

“Not if I'm trying to repay you.” 

“We’re at the museum. Your debt has been repaid. Stop nagging me about it, for fuck sakes.” 

“Dude, the entrance fee was symbolic. It’s 5 fucking dollars. I’m not that broke that paying 10 bucks is going to break my legs. So say, where you wanna eat?” 

I not hungry, but the appeal of free food is undeniable. The question is where? I could take him to the café and order something for us to eat, but maybe he is hungry and wants something that will get his belly full. Heck, maybe I’ll want the same in a few hours. We still have two entire sections to visit that I  _know_ he won’t be able to shut up about and that is gonna take on forever. 

But at the same time that fucking question keeps gnawing at me: is he a coffee fan or not? I need to know. Is my coffee really just  _Pretty Good_? I really need to know. 

“Have you ever, by any chance, heard of a place called The Midnight Crew  _book café_?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long to post this.  
> I hope you guys like it anyway.
> 
> thanks for comments, kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions and all that.  
> helps a lot.
> 
> =]


	26. Rose

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG]  began pestering  tentacleTherapist [TT] \-- 

CG: HEY. YOU. WITCH. 

CG: LOG THE FUCK ON 

TT: Oh. An individual. That is clearly not the one I’m used to. 

TT: Before you go demanding for things, I think you should introduce yourself. 

CG: YOU KNOW WHO I AM.  

CG: IF WHAT YOUR BROTHER SAYS IS TRUE YOU KNOW WHO I AM AND YOU’RE ONLY WASTING MY TIME. 

TT: Then is it fair of me to assume you only came to speak to me due to Dave’s persistency? You offend me, stranger. 

CG: HOW THE FUCK DID YOU-? 

TT: Obviously, by the same methods I concluded your name. 

TT: Karkat Vantas. 

TT: You work with social media management. More specifically, your critics blog. 

TT: You have a fan in me, I admit. 

TT: There are very few points that I could disagree with in regards to your latest critique of Madame Silicy’s most recent publication. 

CG: . . . 

CG: REALLY? 

CG: I MEAN- OBVIOUSLY EVERYTHING I SAID IS A FACT, BECAUSE HER CHARACTERS ARE MAKING NO GOD DAMNED SENSE AND SHE DECIDED TO THROW ALL THEIR ARCKS OUT OF THE FUCKING METAPHOCAL WINDOW IN ORDER TO KILL A BIG BAD MEANIE FROM OUTER SPACE 

CG: WHICH ALREADY DOESN’T MAKE ENY GODDAMNED SENSE IN ITSELF! 

TT: I wouldn’t go that far. 

TT: Terance and Beatrice are still on a path to redemption, even with the aliens. 

CG: YOU CAN’T TELL ME THAT THE ALIEN INVASION ISN’T JUST A DEUS X MACHINA TO GIVE THEM A FUCKING OPORTUNITY TO JUST MAGICALLY AND OUT OF THE BLUE REDEEM THEMSELVES FOR KILLING THEIR RESPECTIVE COUNTERPARTS. 

CG: IT’S BULLSHIT AND YOU AND EVERYONE WITH TWO PAIR OF FUNCTIONING EYES KNOW! 

TT: You do know that, this book, is also printed in braille, right? 

CG: . . . 

CG: CAN IT EVEN BE CONSIDERES PRINTED IF IT DOESN’T HAVE PAINT? 

TT: That argument is irrelevant to the query I brought forth. 

CG: WELL 

CG: THEN YOU SHOULD RETHINK IF YOU’RE THE ONE THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DOING THE QUESTIONS IN THE FIRST FUCKING PLACE! HAVE YOU CONSIDERED THAT? 

TT: Yes. 

CG: SHUT IT.  

CG: I’M THE ONE DOING THE QUESTIONING. 

TT: That wasn’t a question, but alright. 

CG: HOW THE FUCK DID YOU KNOW MY NAME IN THE FIRST PLACE??? 

TT: Dirk would never associate himself with someone as explosive as you.  

TT: He loves his silence. 

TT: I suspect it’s when he gets to brood his unpalatable humor. And I don’t mean humor in the same sense that Dave uses the word. I mean it as in his mood. 

TT: By process of elimination, the only other brother you could have associated yourself with would be Dave.  

TT: And you underestimate my ability to keep myself in tune with recent events.  

TT: That also applies to past events. 

CG: THAT DOESN’T EXPLAIN SHIT! 

TT: Much the opposite, but since your mental screws are still a little lax, allow me to enlighten you. 

TT: I am the one that told Dirk to not kill Dave and, instead, slash his leg. 

TT: I was, also, the one to orchestrate his bank account, SBAHJ and SoundCloud respective hijacks. 

TT: My older brother was but a pawn. 

TT: All that, just so I could get in direct contact with you. 

TT: Aren’t you, oh, so glad, that I managed?  

CG: YOU ARE DERANGED!!! 

CG: WHY WOULD YOU SET YOUR OWN FUCKING BROTHER IN THE LINE OF FIRE JUST TO TALK TO ME??????? 

CG: YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW ME! 

TT: The fact that I didn’t know who you were was, in fact, a detriment to the most fortuitous outcome of the series of events that are about to unfold. 

CG: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? 

CG: WHAT *IS* ABOUT TO UNFOLD? 

CG: GIVE ME SOMETHING TO WORK WITH, FOR FUCK SAKES! 

TT: Funny you should say that. You are, as a matter of fact, one of the few players in the field that works best when out of the spotlight. 

TT: A little hint: run as fast as you can from it if at all possible. 

TT: From what I’ve seen, it does terrible things to your skin. 

CG: I NEVER SAID I WANTED A WORK TO BECOME A SPOTLIGHT! FUCK THE SPOTLIGHT. YOU ARE RIGHT, ANYWAY. PEOPLE CAN’T GET A GOOD SHOT OF MY FACE IN FUCKING BIRTHDAY PARTIES. THE TELEVISION JUST FUCKS MY FACE AND MY IMAGE SIMULTEANIOUSLY.  

CG: IT’S GOTTA BE MAGIC BY THIS POINT. SOMEONE CURSED ME. 

CG: FUCK THE SPOTLIGHT. 

TT: That’s the spirit. 

CG: STOP STRAYING FROM THE FUCKING TOPIC! 

CG: WHAT IS ABOUT TO UNFOLD!? 

TT: I’m not certain... 

CG: OH, COME THE FUCK ON. 

CG: YOU CAN’T THROW ALL THAT CRYPTIC SHIT ON ME LIKE MANURE ON FARM SOIL AND EXPECT ME TO JUST ACCEPT IT *AIN’T BULLSHIT*!! 

TT: I’m not lying to you, though.  

TT: If I tell you what I saw, that could influence your behavior in said circumstance. And if you act differently, the prediction I gave you would be wrong. 

TT: That would discredit any belief you could ever think about bestowing upon me. 

TT: And, on another note, I just hate spoilers. Receiving or giving. 

TT: It just ruins any possibility at an immersive experience altogether. 

CG: THIS IS NOT SOME VIRTUAL REALITY EXPERIMENT IN WHICH YOU HAVE TO BE CONCERNED WITH AN IMERSIVE EXPIRIENCE! THERE ARE LIVES AT STAKE! 

TT: Don’t be fooled by my cheeky demeanor, darling. 

TT: People are in the path of death and I know so. 

TT: The harrowing omens are but an overture in a much more complex painting than you have the capabilities to comprehend currently. 

TT: Me, you and Dirk are but meager players, trying to survive the overwhelming apocalypse that, currently, rears its ugly and defaced grin. 

TT: Not that I should tell you that, but it smells of grape faygo whenever I dream it. 

CG: GRAPE FAYGO. 

CG: YOU ARE TELLING ME THAT THE HARBINGER OF THE APOCALIPSE SMELLS OF FUCKING *GRAPE FAYGO*?? 

TT: No. That would be absurdity. Even because I can tell you this much: you are the harbinger of the apocalypse. 

CG: OH NO. 

CG: YOU’RE IN THE CLOWN CULT. 

TT: Amusing. 

TT: I didn’t see this coming. 

TT: The accusations about me, partaking in Clown Pose activities, I mean. 

TT: I know of their existence, of course. 

CG: OF COURSE. 

TT: But If you knew me personally, I think this wouldn’t have been a thought that could cross your head. 

CG: I JUST KNOW YOU FROM WHAT DAVE SPEAKS OF YOU.  

CG: SOMEHOW, HE LIKES YOU??? 

TT: I like him quite a bit myself. 

TT: Even when he strongly denies his blatant homosexuality. It offends me when he does it, since I’ve been open about mine, much like Dirk has been about his. It’s not like we would shake him into some twisted sense of manhood if he was honest about it. 

TT: I do blame Dirk for it, though. In some capacity. 

CG: TO MUCH INFO. 

TT: Certainly. 

TT: Pardon my indiscretions. 

TT: It’s been an unbearably lengthy amount of time since I had the opportunity to talk to another human-being that wasn’t my older brother. 

CG: AREN’T YOU IN EUROPE OR SOMETHING? 

CG: DON’T YOU HAVE SOMETHING RESEMBLING FRIENDS? 

TT: I do currently reside in Europe. 

TT: England, to be specific. 

TT: That doesn’t mean I engage in a lot of social endeavors. 

TT: I’d rather stir from such social gatherings. They add very little to my pool of connections. 

TT: And I am aware that is the case with you as well. 

CG: NOPE. 

CG: WRONG. 

CG: I HAVE A LOT OF NORMAL FRIENDS. 

TT: Oh. Well, I’d rather talk in dog bark with a lycanthrope, and risk have it tatter my fine tapestry, then listen to the dull musings of a school girl and who she’d rather have her taken to the ball. 

CG: HONESTLY, WHAT COULD A DOG PERSON EVEN TELL YOU? 

CG: DO YOU HONESTLY SPEAK LYCANTHROPE? 

TT: No. 

CG: THEN WHAT THE FUCK? 

TT: There are more ways to communicate then just speech. 

TT: More often than not, body language is much more expressive. 

CG: IT CAN ALSO GET YOU A BEVERAGE TO THE FACE, IF YOU DON’T THINK TWICE. 

CG: I’LL KEEP THE SPEECH, FUCK YOU VERY MUCH. 

TT: Don’t you mean “Thank you very much”? 

CG: I MEANT WHAT I WROTE YOU FUCKING SNOB. 

TT: . . . 

TT: Regardless, I don’t mean you should tackle the problem with no sense or forethought. But it’s a fact well known that actions speak louder than words. 

TT: Take Terance for example. 

CG: TERANCE ISN’T A FUCKING EXAMPLE AT ANYTHING. JUST DROP THAT BONE, LALONDE. IT’S ALREADY BEGAN ITS DECOMPOSITION PROCESS AND THERE’S NO MORE EADABLE MEAT IN IT. THE MAGGOTS HAVE DUG THEIR SWEET LITTLE HOMES AND ALL YOU’RE GONNA GET IS A MOUTH FULL OR LARVAE. 

TT: As entertaining as it would be to dissect that really gross metaphor, I beg to differ. 

CG: THAN BEG. BEG ALL YOU WANT. BEG LOUD AND FOR YOUR NEIGHBOURS TO LISTEN. SCREAM YOUR BEGGINGS AND WHENEVER YOU’RE PUFFING WITH NO MORE AIR LEFT TO PLEAD, I’LL FINISH YOU AND YOUR BEGGINGS WITH SUCH SWIFT AND STURDY ARGUMENTS THAT YOUR NEXT BOUT OF BEGGING IS GONNA BE FOR MORE. 

TT: . . . 

TT: Okay, no, I can’t. 

TT: This is clearly one of your most hidden fantasies. 

CG: NOPE. 

TT: You wish blindly to be in control. For people to depend on you. There’s also a sadism in the entirety of it, very characteristic of your Dominant tendencies. 

CG: NOPENOPENOPENOPENOPE. 

TT: Also, you are obviously painfully pent-up.  

CG: SHUT UP, LALONDE! I’M NOT. 

TT: When was the last time you engaged in intercourse? 

CG: NONE OF YOUR GODDAMNED BUSSINESS!  

TT: When was the last time you even indulged in masturbatory endeavors? 

CG: SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!  

CG: FUCK OFF! THAT’S NOT THE POINT. 

CG: IT’S OFFICIAL! I’D RATHER HAVE YOU TELLING ME DISTURBING APOCHALYPTIC SHIT THEN WHATEVER THIS IS. 

CG: JUST FUCKING TELL ME I’M GONNA DIE AND SPARE ME THIS TRIP DOWN SELF LOATHING LANE. 

TT: You are going to die. 

CG: . . . 

CG: IT WAS THIS EASY ALL ALONG? 

TT: No. Karkat. You didn’t understand. 

TT: You are genuinely going to die soon. 

TT: But if you do, you’re going to unleash upon the world the worse thing you could. 

TT: It’s something so bad that, no matter what people throw at him, he is going to destroy it all. 

CG: WAAAAAAAIT. 

CG: I’M GONNA DIE? 

CG: LIKE 

CG: DIE DIE 

CG: DEAD. 

TT: Dead. 

CG: DEAD. 

TT: Utterly dead. 

CG: YOU HAVE TO BE MOCKING ME. 

TT: I wouldn't jest with matters so dire. 

CG: FUCK.  

CG: FUCK!  

CG: *FUCK*! 

CG: I CAN’T DIE YET, LALONDE! I WANT TO GO TO A COLLEGE I ACTUALLY LIKE! I WANT TO GET MY CAR A NEW PAINT JOB. I WANT TO FUCKING FIND SOMEONE TO OPENLY LOVE! I CAN’T DIE NOW! 

CG: I CAN’T FUCKING DIE NOW!!!!! 

CG: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! 

TT: Not to be a bother to your dreams of livelihood, but as you would very likely say yourself 

TT: I don’t give a fuck. 

TT: I wish you no harm. It’s true. But your reasons to stay alive are irreverent to the matters at hand. 

TT: They mock what I have been working to avoid. 

TT: Your death causes the apocalypse and you’re worried about your car getting a paint job. 

CG: YOU HAVE YOUR PRIORITIES. I HAVE MINE. 

TT: Fair assessment. 

TT: But allow me to share my priorities since you, so kindly, shared yours with me. 

TT: If you die, Dave goes crazy. 

TT: And in his craziness he, somehow, manages to destroy the entire world for good. 

TT: Isn't it ever so ironic? 

TT: I’m the evil twin of the two and, yet, I’m the one trying to save the world. 

CG: DAVE IS A DUMBASS. HE WOULD NEVER DO SOMETHING SO ABSURD LIKE ATTEMPT WORLD DOMINATION. 

TT: Indeed. 

TT: Dave doesn’t try. 

TT: Every project that he’s ever put his mind into succeeded. 

TT: I genuinely can’t tell you of something that he tried that failed. 

TT: Which is why Dirk hates him so vigorously. Dave could have killed him whenever his will decided it was time. But he insists in not going through with it. 

TT: Watching those two fight is quite entertaining, if I may say so. 

CG: NO. YOU MAY THE FUCK NOT. YOU’RE NOT THE ONE WHO HAD TO CARRY HIS INJURED ASS AND ALMOST GOT YOUR TRACHEA CRUSHED IN THE MIDDLE, SO FUCK OFF. 

TT: Okay.  

TT: Sore subject, then. 

CG: TELL ME THE FUCK ABOUT IT. IF HELD WRONG MY THROAT STILL HURTS BECAUSE OF YOUR ASSHOLE OF A BROTHER. 

TT: Sore appendage too, then. 

TT: I’m learning so much today. 

CG: YEAH, ME TOO. IT’S LIKE GOING TO A CLASS IN MURDER AND CRASINESS. 

CG: TODAY! IN DISCOVERY CHANNEL! COME AND SEE THE FRATERNAL DYNAMICS OF THE MOST DERANGED HUMANS IN HISTORY! 

TT: I’m 60% certain that Dirk might have the footage you need to actually get that program running, if you wished to. 

CG: I’M NOT EVEN GONNA ASK. 

CG: I WOULD ALSO NEVER ASK YOUR DERANGED OLDER BROTHER FOR SOMETHING SO DISTURBING. 

TT: It’s not that disturbing, really.  

TT: Most of the footage actually consists in the four of us pranking each other. 

TT: I do admit our pranks were quite gory, with Dirk being able to lose his head. 

TT: I have a compilation of his beheadings, actually. 

TT: They are quite fascinating. 

CG: NO THANKS. IM GOOD. IF I WANT TO SEE GORE ILL JUST TUNE IN SOME CHANNEL THAT’S RUNNING ONE OF THE 5 OR 6 ITERATIONS OF SAW. 

CG: I NEVER KNOW HOW MANY THERE ARE, MOSTLY BECAUSE I CAN’T BE BOTHERED TO GIVE A SHIT. 

TT: Your loss, really. 

CG: JUST GET BACK TO TOPIC, WOMEN! 

TT: Right.  

TT: Summarizing: if you die, Dave goes crazy and destroys the world. 

TT: That is why I was so eager to meet you, actually. 

TT: Hi. My name is Rose Lalonde. I’m an evil seer of fortunes. Your fortune says you’ll die. 

CG: SO I’M ACTUALLY GOING TO DIE? 

TT: As far as my vision allows me to see, we haven’t changed a single fact that alters that fate. But just this conversation we’re having right now could trigger that change. 

CG: WELL? 

TT: . . .  

TT: . . .  

TT: . . . 

TT: Nothing. 

CG: NOTHING WHAT? 

TT: Nothing’s changed.  

CG: HOW LONG? 

TT: To your death? 

TT: I can’t say with precision. 

TT: It could be within the next week, or the next fifteen days. 

CG: SO YOU’RE CERTAIN I’M NOT GONNA MAKE IT TO THE END OF THE MONTH. 

TT: No, but I'll tell you this 

TT: The passing of days are going to make your probability of death increase greatly. 

TT: What makes my uncertainty is the ratio. I don’t know if the probabilities are arithmetic, geometric or exponential. 

TT: However, be certain, they always increase. 

CG: IS THERE EVEN SOMETHING I CAN DO TO DELAY THE PROGRESSION? 

TT: Not that I’m aware. 

TT: What I can recommend is for you to live your life like nothing is wrong. Maybe that’ll trigger the event that’ll change your future. 

TT: Maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll see yourself in a bind similar to that of Stranger Than Fiction, and maybe, like in the movie, the author might take pity on you. 

CG: I’M MORE LIKELY TO END UP IN THE FRONT OF THAT BUS. 

TT: Somehow, I doubt you would have such a boring death. 

CG: OH YEAH? AND HOW DO YOU SEE IT THEN? 

TT: Something pompous and loud. Like yourself. 

TT: Something alike to being shot to death. 

CG: WAIT. 

CG: DID YOU ACTUALLY SEE THAT? 

TT: What? You being shot to death? 

CG: YEAH. 

TT: No. I never actually see when or how the kill you. It’s like someone splayed red paint in a canvas and, with a straw, blew the shapes into being. 

CG: ARE SOME CORNERS MORE SATURATED THAN OTHERS? 

TT: As a matter of fact, yes. 

TT: Karkat, you’ve been having visions as well? 

CG: NOT AS MUCH AS SOME MOTHERFUCKER’S BEEN SHOWING ME THINGS. 

CG: THERE’S SOMEONE ELSE IN MY DEATH’S EQUATION. 

CG: SOMEONE THAT KNEW HOW IT WOULD COME DOWN. 

CG: YOU SAID SOMETHING ABOUT THE GRIMACING FACE OF THE APOCALIPSE SMELLING LIKE FUCKING FAYGO. 

CG: NEWSFLASH: FAYGO IS A CLOWN THING. 

TT: So we go back to the Clown Pose theory in the end. 

TT: That is unfortunate. 

CG: ONLY THAT? 

CG: EVERYTHING IN THIS SCENARIO HAS BEEN UNFORTUNATE SO FAR! 

TT: Not so much. 

TT: You have a really high suspicion that you’re going to get shot to death. 

TT: Maybe stray from guns? 

CG: THAT  

CG: IS YOUR GRAND ADVICE? 

TT: It’s what I can do for you for now. 

TT: It’s your choice to accept it or ignore it. 

CG: GRAND SEER YOU ARE. 

TT: The best, darling. 

TT: The undisputed best. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to post this, guys.  
> College is an ever consuming effort.  
> Nonetheless, I hope ya'lls can enjoy it.
> 
> As always, thanks for kudos, comments, bookmarks and subscriptions.  
> They motivate me a lot.
> 
> =)


	27. Dave

I was watching a guy get dunked into a water tank when a smell of roasted meat hit my nostrils. Karkat was in the kitchen wearing his card-suit plastic apron with a face like someone had run over his cat and sent him a picture of the deed with an apology. I guess that’s just the usual when someone decides to talk to Rose.

His face progressively changes, and I don’t like the look it gets. He gets a blank face. A blank face like the face I wear when shit hits the fan and I need to act fast. The type of blank face a guy develops when he has to face death dead-on and can’t show fear.

Wherever his talk with her went, it didn’t go good for him.

I flash-step out of the couch right in front of his face.

“Hey, dude, what pissed in your apple juice?”

He startles, hide’s the phone against his back and gives a step back, knocking the handle of the pan with the steak. The thing starts to tip, threatening to spill meat and burning oil on him and the entire kitchen.

I flesh-step to the side and get the thing before it falls.

“Okay, yeah. You’re not doing so good.”

“I’m fine!” he says with  closed  eyes, head tilted down.

“I’m not stupid, ya’know. You’re the uptight kinda dude that makes a point of always putting the handle of the pan out of the passage. You’re lying to my face and you’ve been doing that for a while now.”

Karkat  looks at me like I caught him red-handed in the cookie jar.

“I was putting up with it because, let’s face it, while Bro has the house, I’m pretty fucking homeless. And now that he knows where I  study,  I can’t move in with John without risking to get his head to meet the end of Bro’s blade.”

" So,  you’re not afraid I might get to meet the end of that blade?”

It  sounds  indignant, but I have no idea why.

“Honestly? Not really. You’ve dealt with it before and came out unscathed. Also: I’ve seen you stab an  8 foot  woman in the neck and blast a drug hideout. You’re pretty badass when you want to.”

He blushes a little, looks to the couch and bites his lower lip.

It’s fucking  adorable.

Imagine that shit with the crabby-jammies! 

It’d be like watching those puppy videos on the internet, when the  assholish  owners get them to come running for new toys or some different treat, and the puppies run and trip in their own ears, falling face first.

The best part of those types of videos is that they get up with smiley muzzles and just keep on running.

I  wanna  hug this guy! Just like I wanted to hug those puppies.

Wait. No. I was supposed to be mad because he’s been lying to me. Ah, shit. That bluster’s already out the window. I sigh.

“Just shoot straight with me so we can fix it, man, okay?”

He rounds me to turn the steak on the stove and I take a sit at the island. I can see his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. Unrelated but, holy shit, that thing looked like it was fighting for its space in there. Dude had a really round ass.

Not that I didn’t know that first hand. But the pants just added proof to my observations.

Not that I was staring.

That’d be uncool.

And gay.

“Your...sister... knew a perturbing amount of info about me.”

“That’s kind of her thing. I did tell you that was her thing, didn’t I?”

He swallows before continuing, very focused on the steak.

“Yeah, you did...she also said that...you’re gay?”

“That’s also her thing. She thinks she knows I'm gay. I wouldn’t know if I’m gay. She can’t know something about me that I’m very fucking sure it’s not true.”

Whatever, Rose. Say what you will. My ass is still as virgin now as it was the day I was born.

Karkat  stares at the steak before asking “Do you know someone who has guns?”

Okay. That’s a loaded question. 

No pun intended but I’ll take the credit.

“Don’t you?”

“I mean,  Vriska  certainly has one. And from her fucking fixation with pirates  its  one of those from gun collections that she highly likely stole from some stuck-up rich ass bitch. That guy probably has one too,” He says, talking about a person I don’t know “but he’s so far away it must be irrelevant, at this point.”

“Why d’you ask than, man?”

“She didn’t say explicitly, but there’s a high chance that guns are  gonna  have some importance in my future.”

“Good or bad?”

He got a fork that was around in a plate to poke the meat.

“She didn’t say.”

The stake became a brick. He turned the stove off, threw the meat in the trashcan, the oil in a Coca-Cola bottle and left the pan on the stove. Then, he took the apron off and sat by my side on the isle, sighing frustrated.

“Well, that was a complete waste of time, effort, money and I’m still fucking hungry.”

“Same.”

“You know how it rained like the sky was crying the death of  its  cloud puppy and every place in the fucking city decided it was time to close shop because the news  were  warning about how everything was going to get clogged in traffic?”

“Yup.”

“And how it took 2 FUCKING HOURS for us to get home because the news were right for once in their miserable span of existence?”

“Touts.”

“And that because of that clusterfuck we never got to go to the Midnight Crew café?”

I gave him a nod.

“I checked their menu online. They have fried stuff beyond the usual sweet cakes, ice cream and coffee. I’m going. Do you want to come?”

“How forward of you, Mr.  Vantas . Asking me to a date this late at night? What are your intentions?”

His face gets all scrunched up.

“Okay then. Go suck the brick stake. Maybe you’ll be able to taste the salt of it, with some luck, and not the rotten fruit peels from this morning’s breakfast.”

He hopped down the isle while flipping me the bird and headed to the door. I hopped down of it too and fell into step with him after a couple fast strides. The dude grabbed the car keys and I downed a jacket.

When the engine was on, he spoke.

“Hey, Dave.”

“Yeah?”

“How are things going for your date?” he asked, changing gear.

“Smooth.”

“That bad?” the skepticism on that sentence was loud and clear.

“No. Like. Seriously. I just look at  Elword’s  face during class, but that’s cause the campus is as huge as my dick! And yeah. You were right. She is going to take us to a music place. It’s not  rap , rock or techno like I expected, but whatever.”

“Huh. That is weird from what you told me. Did she stop the sourpuss act and finally tell you when, though?”

“Next week on  Wednesday .”

He nodded without looking my way, focused on driving the car. Then he gave a sad smile and a second nod.

“Then we only have 4 days to make sure you won’t suck at this.”

“Hey, I don’t diss the possibility of pussy-licking, man.”

I got elbowed on the arm for my comments, but that did get the solemnity out of his face, so, whatever. With a lighter mood and a sky as dark as the shadows of my butt crack, I could barely see shit and had no reason to hide my already blank face.

Okay. Maybe I was emoting a little, but I can’t help the feelings. The only thing I can do is try to avoid letting them spread like the plague they’ve proven to be over the years.

But, honestly,  Karkat  would be the last chump ever to call me out on being emotive. If I do. Cause I don’t.

I take the Shades off and stack them inside the case, putting it into my jacket pocket. He looks at me in surprise and I point forward.

“Eyes on the road, dude. You  wanna  crash?”

“I’m not going to crash from this! College hasn’t made me a braindead zombie with so little motor functionality I wouldn’t be able to multitask something this retardedly simple, you moron.”

“Yet.” I tease.

“Fuck off.” 

“If you hate your college so much why don’t you ask for an exchange?”

“Oh, please, enlighten me on where I could even go to get my higher education and still be close enough to home that people wouldn’t just think I was running away from my problems. PLEASE.”

“You don’t have to change your college, dude. You could just switch your course. Marketing would suit you way better than Sociological Studies.”

“I can’t be that manipulative.”

“Administration?”

“It’s payed. And expensive as all shit.”

“In your current college?”

“Yep.”

“Fucking dough sharks, man.”

“Except for Law, that gets  it’s  financing from the local prosecutions office, it’s the most coveted course. It’s a joint venture between a local baking company and the mayor’s office, but because the baking company is heavily involved, they charge a fortune for the course. Yeah. I searched.”

Wait. A baking  company ?

“What’s the name of this company, dude?”

“I saw this info ages ago! I can’t fucking remember. Stop asking me difficult questions, damnit.”

I snort.

“Okay. Then answer me this question.”

“Shoot, fucker.”

“If you could go back in time and kill the people that killed your father, would you still be here?”

He thinks a bit.

“I mean... probably.”

“What’s your argument?”

“If that incident had never  happened,  I wouldn’t have gone on to kill every clown I saw in fright it might try to kill me. And since none of those fuckers would go back to tell the story, people could start to forget shit about my mutant blood. Which would mean that none of the life-threatening situations would have happened and I would certainly be alive.”

“Interesting argument, but if that was that case the diversion point would have created another you that, even if it’s you, would not be this you. This you would cease to exist and be replaced with the new you that you just created, overwriting the time-line of your life to that point.”

“ So,  I wouldn’t exist as this me.”

“There would be a guy walking around with your face and friends, but he wouldn’t be you. He’d be some other angry ball of cuteness, but not you, cause he didn’t live your life.”

I look at him expecting to see the face of a mind-blown man, or somewhat interested person at least. Instead, he looks like a blushing  bishoujo  come straight out of a high school manga. And a  Tsundere  one at that.

The dude looked ready to forget the car wheel and slap me up the noggin – except that he was red on the face. I don’t get it. I was talking about time travel. Did he get flustered over the prospect of not being himself? Or is that anger?

“Stick it up your ass, Strider.”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t even know what the fuck I did to get you to react like that.”

“Calling me cute. You called me cute. I’m not cute! If  anything,  I think you might have misspelled rude.  So  stick it up your ass.”

I feel heat irradiating in my face all the way to my ears. When did I say that? Did I actually say that? He’s  gotta  be making this up.

“I didn’t call you cute. I think you need to clean your ears better, man.”

“Angry  ball  of cuteness. It’s what you said, fucker.”

“I didn’t.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter because even if you had meant it, it would have been bullshit anyway. I don’t fit the bill of cute or adorable or whatever adjective you use to describe videos of pandas rolling down steeps like fucking stitch and landing on their fat white hairy assess.”

I laugh, remembering a video of that kind that we watched together on Discovery a way back.

“Those videos do melt hearts.”

And  so  does his sleepy face on crabby jammies. Or his relaxed face when watching Netflix all wrapped up on blankets. Or his actual sleeping face when nothing can take him away from the  rest  that he looks like he needs so desperately right now.

“I know. That’s why I mentioned them. They are the true cute things.”

And then I think a little.

“You are a panda, though.”

“I have some abs. You can’t convince me I’m fat.”

I give a laugh that is half sarcastic half true. I’ve never seen his chest but I have seen the contours on those tights he wore when we invaded the sopor hide out and yeah. He’s not too shabby on that department.

I could wash laundry on his abs. Getting him to recline on my chest wearing only boxers and soaping him up with some undistinguishable cloth. If...that wasn’t a totally gay thing to do.

But it could be done.

Facto.

“That’s not what I meant.” I have to get my head out of these things before my half-mast becomes I full one and he decides to rightfully knuckle my pretty face for indecency “It’s just that Pandas are just as adorable and cute as they are scary as shit when messed with. Kinda like you.”

Now that I think about it,  Karkat  could pretty much kill me if he wanted. The guy turns everything he touches into something deadly and, to top it off, he doesn’t fight with strength alone.

Actually, all in all,  Karkat  isn’t that strong. Or that fast. But when Bro attacked us, he went for the Shades and for the groin when he was in a bind. With the big clown  chick  he went straight for the neck.

He knows where to hit to make it lethal or to make it hurt.

When he didn’t have his  sickles,  he literally used the most lethal thing he could put his grabby hands onto.

Dude doesn’t play on the job, I’ll be the first to admit. In his mind is kill or die. Incapacitate, only if you need to run.

It’s  kinda  hot.

Okay. Where the fuck did that thought come from? Can I return it? Does it have a return address I can pay to  sent  it? I don’t want it. I want to return it. I wasn’t privy to the fact that this package came loaded with gay thoughts.

Will someone take it back?

Okay. Fine. No one want’s you guys back, so we’re  gonna  do the honorable thing and put the weird, wrong thought back on the box, label it “gay” and put it along with the secret fact you enjoy My Little Pony non-ironically.

Waaaaay  out of the way of the rest of your perfectly sane brain functions.

Cool.

Dope.

Sick.

Lit.

He drives to the parking lot of the town and we cross the street to a row of department stores that sold everything, from clothing to toys. Right in the middle, between one store and another, a very unnoticeable black door.

Honestly, if he hadn’t told me it was a café, I’d be the kind of guy to go up the stairs thinking I’d be walking into a brothel.

He opened the door and a long flight of stairs ran up the alley-like space with a decaying, yellow light bulb every 8 steps or so and a wood banister that could use a wash cloth. Or 5. 

When we got to the top, he held the door handle and stopped for a second to look at me.

“Stay in here. I have to check something with the waitress and I’ll be right back, okay?”

I nodded, even with a little bit of unease. What could he have to check with the waitress if they didn’t even know we were coming? I couldn’t even think of possibilities.

He opened the door to go through, illuminating the hallway with a bright light that made me wince, but the door closed right after, leaving me back in the dark, alone.

Then again, what could he even go talk to the waitress about?

I wasn’t going to find an answer without investigating, and that’s too much of an effort. I leaned my back on the wall and pulled up my phone to see if it had any messages. 

Like expected, just a little bit of fussing from John and Jade about some new online game they were really hyped to play with me. Like every other week.

I stood waiting for him to come back for 2 minutes.

Karkat  opened the door completely and gestured with his thumb to the table we were taking. “There. Settled. Don’t just stand there like a statue with the face of an idiot.”

The whole place was lit in a yellow half-light that aimed directly at the tables and not at the rest of the space. Really easy on the eyes, both literally and esthetically speaking.

I got the feeling the place was... uhmn ...kind of ....romantic ?

Obviously, I didn’t say anything, letting the ambiance play out and dance in my head. It was whatever. A nice, neat, cozy whatever.

As for layout, the place was a corridor. One side had booths with lamps that looked dimmed, and the other, a long balcony taken straight out of a  starbucks . Except for the logo. 

I mean, I don’t think  starbucks  would sell their property with their logo still on it, anyway.

But it was nagging me. I was certain this place would have been  way  more illuminated. When  Karkat  got in, the light was so bright he looked like he disappeared on it.

Could he have asked them to dim it because of me?

Oh my god. If I found out he did it I’d die of pure shame. That shit be more pure than Breaking  Bad’s  meth. I don’t even wanna ask.

I put my hands inside my pockets and hold the glasses case.

I should probably just put them on again and stop being a nuisance to public spaces.

Karkat  takes me out of my head by leading the way to a round booth and we sit on it by opposite ends. There’s an anxious smile plastered in his face that reaches his eyes, giving them a shine they usually don’t have.

“Why are you staring? Want to take a picture or something?”

Shit! I’m not using Shades inside. I forgot I wasn’t supposed to be staring.

Footsteps approaching, I look down and throw my bangs in front of my eyes before answering him with just as much snark.

“Forgot my dork camera. It’s the one I use on John when I see him making a dork face.”

“Then all your selfies must be taken with that camera.”

“Just the ironic ones.”

“Wow! Dave Strider is capable of doing something unironically!”

“I’m capable of being this handsome unironically.” I tell him, making a show of showing my best gallant smile.

First, he goes red from embarrassment, but quickly it changes back to his usual angry face, even if he’s still blotchy on the cheeks.

Eh. Same diff with him.

“Hey  Karkitty ! I see you and your  furrend  really get along!”

The nametag on the waitress said Nepeta. She was wearing a black apron above normal clothes and a blue cat beanie.

“Shut up and bring me the fucking menu” he told her while resting his head in his clenched fist.

She giggled at his abrasiveness and eyed me up and down, smiling with a knowing look. I leaned back and eyed her up and down back.

That’s when I realized that it looked less cool and way creepier without the Shades. Fuck. My face starts heating. I  gotta  act fast.

“I-I like your apron” what am I saying? “It  has  a nice esthetic with your cat beanie.” It actually does, though “By the way, where did you get it?”

“I made it! You like it?” She asked, tweaking with the knitted ears.

“I’m more into birds, but I can appreciate the craftsmanship.”

This girl does have skills. Thumbs up.

“Okay. Okay. You cozied up to each other. How nice. Can I order, now?”

“Of course! What would you like this time, Karkitty?”

“What is it with people butchering my fucking name?” He grumbles “I want the Around The World. Actually, 2 of those. Also, the combo with all the snacks and a strawberry cake. And tell the cook to go crazy with the whipped cream! I’m not fucking paying this much money for a cake that’s basically a rip-off of a merengue if there’s not enough whipped cream in this shit to induce me a heart-attack.”

“The usual with snacks, then! I’ll let the cook know.”

Nepeta wrote the order down and walked off through swinging doors, right back into the kitchen. I gave the dude a look.

“ Karkitty ?? Is she your ex or something?”

He lifts the menu a little higher, covering his face “Or something.” but gets it down really quick afterwards “And what is it with you and staring? That lean back thing was so cringe worthy I wanted to cross the table just to slap you!”

“In my defense, she checked me out first.”

“She did?”

I nod. He stays quiet for a second and then adds.

“It was still awkward as fuck! You could’ve said anything when you were trying to flirt with her, but  noooo . You told her that her work apron was  _ nice _ .”

“Hey! I pointed the sick beanie too. And I wasn’t flirting. That’d be an effort.”

“That’s what saved you from *me* going to smack *you* out of  sheer  cringe.”

“And what would you have done?” I throw back.

“It’s not about what I would have done. It’s what I wouldn’t have done. I wouldn’t have eyed her up and down like I was a creep and she was my next sexual fantasy, and that just for starters!”

“That’s what it looked like?”

He nodded fast and several times.

“Well, shit.”

“The one thing that consoles me from that shit fest is that you didn’t go for it with a shitty pick up line.”

“It wasn’t flirting, I told you. And I don’t know no pick up lines, man. I always try to be original about my fuck ups.” I usually try not to fuck up first but that usually fails.

If there’s three things I learned from fighting Bro in a daily basis those would be: If you don’t want people to know something about you, mention the fact repeatedly without the sordid details. It’ll become a running gag at some point.

Second, waiting for things to change will get you killed. Do it yourself or die trying. 

Third and more important. If you go down, go down in flames. People will either make you a martyr or a hero. Either way, you’ll make an impression.

“If I had heard something like,” and to that,  Karkat  does a silly, deep, voice “Hey, I know you’re the waitress, but I’d be willing to wait for you, I would have taken my shoe and stuffed your mouth with it.”

“How do you know a pick up line?”

“I spend way too much time browsing the internet for the doom of my mental sanity. Not that I have any left at this point.” He thinks back, putting the menu aside.

Nepeta returned with two identical cups of coffee and I realize that me and  Karkat  got real cozy in the back-end of the round booth while talking, so I quickly scoot over to my left, putting some distance between us.

I hope she didn’t notice. But also, I hope he didn’t notice. 

I look him to check, but the dude only has eyes for the coffee.

“Brazilian Arabica. Dark roast for Karkitty. And since I didn’t know what your preference was, I asked the cook to make it medium roast for you. If you would like to try the next cup with a different roast you can just tell me.”

I nod my head in agreement. I have no idea what she means, though, but it doesn’t take long for  Karkat  to start rambling, taking the small cup in his hands and opening the biggest, most genuine smile I’ve ever seen on his usually angry face.

Welp, now I wish that my eyes where dork cameras.

“Arabica is the coffee grain with the largest world production and Brazil is their greatest producers. It’s the coffee we usually buy, or some mix of it with the others.”

“There’s more than one?”

“There are four, but one of them is really hard to come by because it almost went extinct! This is the only shop I know that makes a brew out of it.”

I lift the cup and blow the liquid inside of the cup. There’s no way I'm getting a tongue burn from this little trip, but I can’t pass an opportunity of getting under his skin.

“Can you get me some sugar to put on this?”

But instead of being  pissy  at me, he turns to explain with a snarky tone.

“Medium roast means your coffee is _  already _  sweeter than  average.  Dark roast means mine’s bitter, but also spicy. Try it out!”

He gestures me to do it and stops to look. I put the cup on my mouth with a certain weariness, or maybe skepticism, but when it hits my tongue I realize.

This is not like any coffee I’ve ever drank before. 

It doesn’t even feel like coffee. 

What is this?

“ Karkat , what witchcraft did you do to these beans? This can’t be coffee.”

“YOU ARE WELCOME!” He screamed feeling all self-entitled and smiling a  cheshire  like grin.

The conversation went on and got away from us really fast from them on. One moment we were talking about coffee and the next we were listing our top 5 actors. Nepeta brought the other tree espressos for us. 

I think it was Robusta,  Excelsea  and  Liberica , but in average I decided my preference being medium roast.  Karkat’s  cups were too much for me. That shit had the flavor of caffeine and not caffeine with flavor.

In our third cup Nepeta brought his cake and I stole a bite... or three. This time he got angry, what only made me want to steal it more, but he was threatening to order another one – and this shit was already getting  hella  expensive.

I ended up relenting the stealing method and just started asking, but he wouldn’t let me have the spoon, afraid of me getting too big a size out of it, so he just decided to outright spoon feed me.

Whatever. I got more cake.

Then, she brought the snacks. French fries, Onion rings, Peanuts and really tiny sweet crackers.

I grabbed a peanut and remembered John throwing popcorn on his own mouth in one of our movie nights. I tried it out myself, but missed my mouth. It bounced on my cheekbone and into the cushion of the booth.

Karkat  shook his head in disapproval, grabbed the peanut and aimed by extending his arm to the opposite side of mine. I opened my mouth with my chin up and followed the trajectory of the peanut.

I gulped it without chewing it. The thing went straight down my throat.

Holy shit.  Karkat’s  skills are even better than John’s in this sport.

But I ended up coughing like a terminal smoker because of the fucking peanut.

When it settled, I hit his shoulder twice and say “C’mon. Do it with something else!” and scoot over the other side of the table. We sit opposite. He grabs a fry and pops it into his own mouth before grabbing another and start aiming.

We finish half of all the snacks just playing catch like that when Nepeta comes back with a menu and a barely restrained smile.

“I forgot to ask because it’s a meow purrmotion! You guys know Slick.”

“No Nepeta. Not everybody knows Slick. That’s like saying something absurd like all black people know each other or that all dwarfs know each other.”

“Well, he’s my boss.” She clarifies specifically for me “And he just got married!”

“SLICK GOT MARRIED?”  Karkat  yells.

She nods vigorously. He seems awed.

“WHO WOULD BE THE DICK CHAFER WILLING TO MARRY THAT GUY?”

She simply answer “Snowoman.”

Karkat  deflates.

“Oh. That... actually makes a lot of sense.”

“They are adorable! The ceremony was all in a gothic black with black candles and red roses! The guests got licorice to take home-”

“Did they kill anyone?”  Karkat  asks, skepticism written all over his face.

Her face closed immediately. “I can’t disclawsure that.”

He just started laughing. How can you laugh at that, man?! That’s a concerning question to be asked and a shady answer to be had.

“Doesn’t matter. By the whole story it’s a couple’s promotion, right?”

“Uhum.”

He was going to say something, but I put my hand over his mouth before he could. She opens the menu and in the middle is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It almost made me shed a tear.

It was a huge apple pie with actual apple slices as toppings and a side of a just as big Ice cream.

“You can’t really see it in the photo because it just shines but, everything is covered in apple juice and a little cinnamon.”

“Sold. How much.”

“It’s a  purromotion  exclusive. I literally don’t have a price to give you.”

Karkat  takes my hand off of his mouth.

“What is the promotion?” He asks, already annoyed.

“You bring your loved one, kiss and get pie. That’s it.”

“Kiss?” I feel my face heating up.

“Yeah.”

“For you to see?” Fuck. I might be getting warmer by the second.

“I’m not going to take pictures or anything creepy like  that!”  she explains shaking her hands in exasperation “It’s just protocol to make sure you guys are not  purretending .”

Karkat  looks at me like he knew that all along and I’m the idiot, which I kind of feel like I am being right now because I should have seen that catch coming.

And also, she thinks we are a couple.

Why can’t I create a whole to dig myself in?

Oh yeah. I did.

Why didn’t I just stay there....

Karkat  comes right for the most ambiguous save I’ve ever seen.

He reaches for my hand on top of the table and holds it, caressing my  knuckles .

“Look, ‘Peta, can you come back later? We haven’t even finished eating our snacks yet and that thing looks humongous! I’m not even sure we would be able to eat it. So... ask us later.”

She snaps the menu shut, says a quick “got it” with a nod and leaves. When we both see the  kitchen  doors swing shut he slips his hand out of mine.

I don’t know why. I swear I don’t know why. But when his hand goes mine goes after it and, before I can think about why the fuck my motor functions decided to leave me out of the decision-making front, I’m the one holding his hand.

It gets weird really fast so I drop it.

“I don’t know why I did that.”

“I don’t know why I do half the things I do most of the time, but that’s why I get fucked up the ass so much. And that is exactly why we should think about what we are going to tell her. You want the fucking mammothlike apple pie, don’t you?”

“I mean...yeah. But-”

“But you don’t want to kiss me.”

He looks sad and sounds resigned. 

C’mon,  Karkat , my bro, my dude, my man, you know it’s not like that.

“It’s not  cause  you’re not attractive or anything” oh shit, that sounds awful “and you know that’s not true even  cause  we had that...uhm...agreement...” Fuck. What am I saying? 

I can’t stand to look forward with how much heat my face is producing. My ears and cheekbones have enough heat to light a coal-based power plant right now. It must be them powering the electricity that’s making my fingertips numb.

He needs to hear the end, though, so I force myself to keep talking.

“And you don’t need to worry about me not going through with it. I’m a man of my word. We are going to do it. I just... It’s just that this is a public space and she needs to...w-watch” don’t stutter  you  wuss, just keep talking like this is cool “and it’s not like my kissing face is  gonna  be a sight to behold you know?”

I look at him through my bangs and he just seems like he’s listening.

“It’s probably got to do with the fact I’ve never kissed before, so I can’t make this be good. To watch or to... take... part.”

He raises from the seat and panic overtakes my guts.

Is he going to leave?

Did I screw this up?

But none of those is it. He just makes a hand gesture asking me to scoot over so he can take a seat by my side.

He sits and makes a proposition.

“Look, I know this is not your ideal place to do what I’m going to suggest but, from the puke face you’re making about the prospect of being seen in the midst of kissing, wouldn’t you consider this a good place to actually try to train all this fluster out?” He gestures to his own cheekbones, tapping them twice.

I can’t even hide them under the bangs with the new closeness, anymore, but I can't help trying by looking further down into my own lap.

“I mean, look around. It’s quiet. Pretty fucking empty. Darkish. It’s not *that* different from where you wanted this to happen. And even if someone else walks in, this is not your city. No one knows you. Why  give  a fuck?”

His arguments play out in my head while I actually stop to give a look around in the most inconspicuous way I can manage.

He isn’t wrong. I do have more to gain. Actually, according to his line of thought, I have nothing to lose. 

I gulp down my anxiety and force my answer out.

“Okay. I can do this.”

“ Of course  you can do this” he echoes.

“I can do this.”

This feels a little less terrifying than going to fight Bro on the roof and a little more anxiety inducing than the tipping point of a roller-coaster dive. I can do this. I can do this.

Turning around to face him, all my courage goes out the window like a thief running from the cops after surrendering everyone in a bank, grabbing the money and binging for his life. The mantra of  _ I can do this _  turns to something more like  _ I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS!!! _

Karkat  places a hesitant hand on my neck, as if he was  afraid  I might turn him down even after all the previous bluster.

It’s not like it didn’t happen before, when I didn’t have the courage to close the gap the first time. But it’s not like I’m  gonna  get that courage out of my ass right now just cause his face is inching closer.

“Dave, you’re holding your breath.”

Its only after he comments that I realize that it’s true. I exhale slowly, trying not to ruin everything with my potato breath. Holy shit, I must be smelling Irish, but with less scotch and more underground vegetables. Are potatoes vegetables?

His nose touches mine, standing side by side. His eyes are closed and his mouth agape. 

I close my own eyes. If I keep staring its  possible  I’ll just chicken the fuck out of here faster than The Flash can give himself a tour of the world.

I feel his other hand grip hold of my hip to bring me closer. On instinct, my hands fly from the leather cushions of the booth to grip his shirt.

Our lips touch progressively and  Karkat  guides me to make them fit comfortably. It obvious that he isn’t trying to end this quickly, like ripping off a band aid or putting your shoulder back in place, and my entire body feels hot from a mix of his touch and my anxiety. 

It feels cool-meltingly good and crystalizingly awkward.

With closed eyes I can’t tell if he’s enjoying this or not, and the fact that he isn’t making any sounds doesn’t help. I’m just hoping this isn’t too bad for him. Even if he knew he was literally trying to teach a completely inexperienced person.

Even because I really like what I’m getting out of this deal. Karkats mouth is warm and really soft. Also, a little greasy because of the French Fries and Onion Rings, but I could only discern textures, not tastes.

What does  Karkat  tastes like?

He pulls away before I could think of something to try and learn his taste.

“See? Was that even worth all the fluster? Honestly, I wonder how you can even think of getting to third base if you can’t keep your head in place to get a simple fucking pecker.”

I just shrug the question off.

“I don’t really know, bro. I just do.”

“Why?”

“Because...” I think back to the conversation we had on his room “Look, dude, I don’t  wanna  be late again with this shit.”

“Dave, who the fuck is even counting?”

“Me. I’m counting. I’m not  gonna  let my life run out without pulling all the stops I can along the way. Without seeing every  view  I can. Even because  Bros  switch on me might flip at any time, so I’m gonna take every single opportunity I can.”

I’ve wasted too much time being afraid of things. Being afraid of being slain in my sleep. Not having something to eat when I woke up. Not getting medical attention in time after training. Not being able to protect  my  friends.

“I used to think like you. Some of the worst life decisions I ever made were because I was thinking, scarily so, like you.”

“Wow. There was a moment in your life you had the mindset of a cool person? What did you do?”

“A lot of shitty life decisions.” he says with a sigh.

“Aw, c’mon, man. You can’t throw the bait and not expect me to bite it.”

He looks down at the table and blushes a little.

“It’s just a really pitiful assortment of sob stories about a teenager with no perspective and even less balls. I really would rather not talk about it.”

“You must have one story that won’t make you burst into shame to tell me.”

He thinks a little and his face goes back to  its  normal color.

“Okay. I have one. How I figured out I can’t be drugged.”

I nod.

“I went alone to a night club when I was 16. Falsified ID and all.” 

Wow. That is way more badass then I ever gave him any credit of being. 

“Took all the drugs I could. Drank off my ass. Smoked shit I couldn’t even say the names. And nothing. Nothing worked. I did some other dubious shit too but... I guess that was a poor life decision I took that I'm not too ashamed about.”

“Now I  wanna  know the other shit. That is really bad ass. How come you didn’t OD?”

“I started low and nothing worked, so I worked my way to the heavy OD inducing shit and they kept not working. In the end I just waisted money I could have bought coffee with.”

“Huh.”

“What I’m trying to say is just that you shouldn’t rush things just because you think you are getting behind. Life does *not* have a pace. Things will happen, Dave.  Obviously  you can’t just sit on your ass and wait but you don’t have to go this  thirsty  to the pot either.”

“Are you saying I’m thirsty, dude?”

I give him an eyebrow waggle fully expecting him to nudge me or elbow me, but to my surprise he gives me a lighting pecker on the lips.

Did that happen? Did that really happen? Is  Karkat  capable of flash stepping with his mouth and never told me?

“Yes. Are you listening to this loud and  clear.  You are one thirsty asshole. A virgin, douche-y, thirsty asshole.”

“You just told me not to rush and now are accusing me of being a virgin?”

“It’s not about the fact. It’s about the way you act.”

He goes to reach for the plate of snacks, but its empty. He turns back to ask me the golden question.

“Are you still going to want the dessert?”

I really want the dessert, but mostly I just really don’t want to go back home. The moment I step foot at home I’m certain I’ll analyze this encounter from beginning to end and I just wish my brain would stop doing that.

“C’mon, bro, of fucking course I want dessert. That shit be more pristine than the dope ass  Gize  Pyramids. And that is saying something cause the Egyptians pyramids are one of the seven wonders. That’s the eight wonder, dude, and I want it all over my mouth.”

That... sounded more sexual then it should.

“Are you willing to pass off as homo to get the “eighth wonder” you’re drooling about? She has to think we’re dating.”

“If you kiss me, probably, but if have to give the final step I think I’ll just start squawking my lungs out like an opera chicken so hard  Imma  chicken out.”

“Then that’s the next fucking  step you  have to take, fuckface. Kiss me.”

“What?”

My heart beats so strong on my chest I think it’s using my ribs to learn how to perform a karate chop.

Karkat  leans with his elbow on the table, face turned my way, breathing easy and eyes closed shut.

W-What now? What do I do? Is he just going to wait?

I think I panicked for 5 minutes straight before deciding to take any action, and when I did take an action, there was nothing inventive about it. I just said fuck it and plan out copied what he did to me.

My hand reaches his face with such a stiff motion that I feel like a robot touching a human face for the first time. Karkat opens an eye, looks at my hand and gives a tiny smile. He places his hand over mine, adjusting it so that I cup his nape.

After that, I bring our faces close together. He touches my arm, getting out of his perch on the table. There’s so much blood in my face my head is spinning. At the same  time,  I feel light headed.

From this up close I can see his long black eyelashes, a couple faded scars, the contours of his cheekbones, the marked crease of his forehead from frowning so much, the huge size of his dark circles, the softness of his lips.

Holy shit, I’m starting to sound like Rose in one of her weird wizard porno fanfics. What the fuck???

Just stop staring and suck his face. It wasn’t that hard before, so just do it.

Just push the last few inches forward and stop making your bro take the lead in everything! I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

I close my eyes and feel the top of our upper lips touching, but I can’t take things as slow as him. It makes me itch and that is why I mash our mouths together. Admittedly, I can’t feel much of anything, and the dude jerks backwards a little.

Karkat  takes his hand from my arm and puts it in my face, adjusting us in a way more comfortable way, with his lower lip between my upper and lower.

Suddenly but slowly, he starts to move his mouth.

Moving is a thing????

I try to fall into step with the choreography of lip-up, lip-down, until it stops when he bites my lower lip and gives It a little tug. It doesn’t hurt, but the sting travels from my face to my dick in a matter of nanoseconds.

Lil’dave  is straining harder in my pants at this exact second than Hulk could strain in a suit tailored from  vibranium .

I must be going insane to think being bitten by a dude is hot in any way, shape or form, but here I am, swallowing an indescribable want of...something I don’t even know the name,  cause  I refuse to believe it’s cock.

He gets off of my face to say something that I’m not really listening. Let’s say I have a reputation to uphold and a cool guy can’t be seen with a boner the size of Texas just hanging about, chilling all hard cocked in a restaurant like 

_ Hey, have you seen my packs? And I don’t mean these -  _ flex muscles -  _ I mean these –  _ points to  crotch .

Yeah. Not cool. I’m not about to go around prancing my dick. I have to leave something for the imaginations of the ladies.

“Strider, are you listening to me?”

“What?”

He grunts in exasperation and keeps talking.

“I was saying that you can use the nibble to get into something else, but since you’re not listening why do I even waste my saliva trying to explain this shit???”

“Sorry man, I was spacing off.”

“ Yeah, no  shit!”

“I’m just getting tired.” It wasn’t a lie, more of an excuse.

“You  wanna  go home?” he asks,  pissy  demeanor changed fast into concern.

I take a deep breath.

 “Yes. But let’s get the eighth wonder first. Call Nepeta. I’m ready. We’re doing this, man. We are making this happen.”

He hits me up the nogging.

“Stop quoting your own shitty memes. I still have to be willing to mash  face  with you and I’m gaining jack shit from this arrangement so far, so don’t make me want to back off of it because you’ll be embarrassing me.”

“Whatever, man, my memes are the bomb. You laugh your ass off at them. Don’t think I don’t listen what you do in the dark of the night alone in your room.”

The dude blushes furiously and then I get the double entendre of what I just said.

“Not like that! Never like that!”

He sighs in relief.

“I’m just going call her.”

I nod. He puts a hand in each side of his mouth. What is he gonna do?

“*PETA!!*”

His voice is so loud and comes from such a different place than the usual that the scream makes it lose the usual gravely tone, making it just plain out loud and deep. 

So.

Fucking.

Deep.

I had never heard him use that tone before and he is already usually very loud. Like’ extremely loud.

No,  Lil’dave . Go back down. I’m about to be under scrutiny of people not classified high enough on the intimacy-meter. They don’t get to meet you.

Nepeta emerges from the swinging doors of the kitchen with the menu, coming to a stop right in front of our table and giving us a playful continence with the menu.

“I’m here to take your order, Karkitty. What would you like?”

“The answers to the tests of next week.”

“I didn’t think you were the cheater kind, dude.”

“He isn’t, but  Karkitty  doesn’t have a lot of time to study, so he does a better job at group efforts.”

“How do you know that?” She seems to know a lot.

“He  have  a couple  clawsses  together. He is the one that actually got me this job.  Karkitty  plays tough but is a  marshmiawlow  inside.”

Like that’s a secret to anyone whose talked to him for more than a day.

“Fuck you, Nepeta. I’m perfectly capable of doing things on my own. I don’t do better on group projects. I HATE group projects.”

“Because no one ever listens to you?” me and her ask in a single voice.

Fist bump, chick. You deserve it. 

Karkat  flips us the birds.

She bumps me back and keeps doing her job.

“What is the order of the hour, boys?”

“Just go get us the fucking promotion special, please. Rid me of his incessant nagging, Nepeta. I’ll never ask anything of you ever again.”

“But if you  don’t  I don’t get tips,  Karkitty . I can’t not have tips. I want you to keep asking me things.”

“It’s not possible that that thing doesn’t have a price we can pay. There’s a cost for production. It must have a selling cost!”

Is he advocating for me so we don’t have to kiss in front of her? But if it wasn’t for this then why start the training in here at all? Or maybe he thinks I’m not ready yet? Does he think I needed more time before I could kiss in public? Am I passing off  vibes  of being insecure or something?

Wait. They know each other. For reals. More than just  acquaintances .

Could it be he doesn’t want her associating him with me?

“It does, but I don’t have a price to give you. It’s a promotion exclusive! You kiss and get pie. That’s it.”

“If I get you drawing, writing, THINKING about making this into fanfic, I’m going to find you, and I’m going to destroy every single thing you love.”

She laughs little gleeful giggles.

“I can’t purromise you anything.” She says with a  cheshire  grin.

Karkat  looks at me with a defeated look.

“I tried, but she is the crazy cat shipper. She’ll just do what she does.”

Oh. That’s what this was about.

“ S’cool , man. Let’s just make this happen so I can get  pie .”

We kiss a quick pecker, much less loaded of anxiety from my part, but also much simpler. We literally just mash lips for a second and it’s over.

And  again,  I lost an opportunity to get to know: what does  Karkat  taste like?

Nepeta squeals with delight and vanishes back to the kitchen. Moments later she shows up with a huge slice of pie with apples and ice cream.

The literal dream.

And... ahm ...two spoons.

I take one and go to dig on the dessert, but  Karkat  beats me to the punch and takes a huge slice of pie.

“Hey! What the fuck, dude?”

“YOU STOLE MY CAKE AND WANT TO COMPLAIN?????”

“But I stopped when you asked.”

“Yeah. After I asked UPTEEN TIMES.”

“You don’t even like apples, bro.”

“I don’t  hate’em . And the pie has ice cream too.”

In the end, I spoon feed him so he wouldn’t steal my apples.

What’s fair is fair.

But every time I put  food  on his mouth, I couldn’t help but wonder, what does  Karkat  tastes like?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I took so long to post this, guys.  
> It's huge, but I just couldn't split it in two. It'd make no sense for two following chapters to be told by the same perspective, in the exact same place, in the exact same context.  
> And to top it all off, I have been having tests from monday to friday nonstop.  
> I hope you guys like it anyway.


	28. Karkat

**\--** **carcinoGenetiscist** **[CG] began pestering** **gallowsCalibrator** **[GC]--**  

CG: HEY  

CG: TZ 

CG: ANSWER ME FOR FUCK SAKES! I KNOW YOU’RE ONLINE  AND WHAT I HAVE TO ASK IS ACTUALLY IMPORTANT.  

GC: OH H3Y KARKL3S! 

GC: 1M K1ND4 BUSY RN. JUR1SPRUD3NC3 CL4SS. 

CG: ITS A LAW RELATED YES OR NO QUESTION. 

CG: ARE YOU QUALIFIED TO WRITE A WILL? 

GC: >:C 

GC: 1NT3ND1NG ON DY1NG SO SOON? 

GC: W3’V3 H4D TH1S CONV3RS4T1ON B3FOR3, K4RKL3S. 

GC: NO ON3 1S GO1NG TO L3T YOU D13. 

CG: IT'S NOT ABOUT WHAT YOU FUCKERS THINK CAN BE DONE 

CG: IT'S ABOUT WHAT IS GOING TO FUCKING HAPPEN ANYWAY

CG: I DON’T HAVE UNTIL THE END OF THE MONTH 

CG: NOW BACK TO THE IMPORTANT QUESTION 

CG: ARE QUALIFIED FOR THAT OR AM I GOING TO HAVE TO FIND  *AND* PAY ANOTHER CHUMP TO GET THE STAMP OF VALIDITY ON  THAT  STUPID PIECE OF PAPER?? 

GC: WH4T DO YOU M34ND YOU DON’T H4V3 UNT1L TH3 3ND OF TH3  MONTH???? 

CG: LOOK, I KNOW YOU CAN'T BE THIS FUCKING STUPID, BUT SINCE YOU ARE PLAYING THE PART SO CONVINCINGLY, LET ME DO YOU THE FAVOR OF EXPLAINING: I WILL BE DEAD BEFORE THE FINAL DAY  OF THIS MONTH. 

GC: HOW COULD YOU 3V3N KNOW SOM3TH1NG TH1S SP3C1F1C >:? 

CG: I FOUND A SEER 

GC: H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4H4 

GC: K4RL3S YOU C4NT TRUST S33RS! TH3Y W3R3 PROB4BLY  GYPS13S TRY1NG TO SC4M YOU OUT OF YOUR DOGH! >xD 

CG: TEREZI, I DIDN’T PAY FOR THAT. I GOT IT OUT OF A  CONVERSATION. I WOULDN’T BE STUPID ENOUGH TO PAY MONEY TO  GET A READ OF MY FUTURE ANYWAY! 

CG: IM A MUTANT BLOODED FREAK STUCK IN A CITY THE SIZE OF HIS  NUTSACK! WHAT IS THE POSSIBILITY OF MY FUTURE HAVING  ANYTHING BRIGHT IN STORE??? 

CG: IF I JUST WANTED TO SEE TRAGEDY, I WOULD HAVE TUNED THE  FUCKING 20 O’CLOCK NEWS AND GOTTEN MY DAILY DOSAGE OF  DISCREDIT ON HUMAN KIND FOR FREE. 

CG: I GOT THAT READ OF MY FUTURE WITHOUT ANY PROMPT! 

CG: AND FROM A VERY TRUSTWORTHY SOURCE. 

CG: JUST ANSWER MY FUCKING QUESTION, OKAY???? STOP  DODGING IT LIKE IT’S THE SLIPPERY BODY OF A LUBED UP DICK! 

CG: TEREZI? 

CG: TEREZI, DON’T LEAVE ME SPEAKING TO THE WIND, FOR FUCKS  SAKES! 

**\--** **gallowsCalibrator** **[GC] added** **apocalipseArisen** **[AA]--**  

AA: 0w0 what is happening here? 

CG: K4RKL3S 1S D3LUD1NG H1MS3LF TH1NK1NG W3 4R3 GO1NG TO  JUST B3 GOOD C4TTL3 FR13NDS 4ND L3T H1M D13.  

CG: THAT IS ABSOLUTELY **NOT** WHAT I HAD BEEN STATING!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK, TZ??? 

GC: ‘R4D14, C4N YOU L1ST3N TO K4RKL3S VO1CE FROM THE W4Y  BEYOND? 

AA: I d0 have t0 admit that having 0ur leader die w0uld be in very p00r taste  f0r every0ne inv0lved in this netw0rk 0_0 

CG: PEOPLE, I DON’T WANT TO DIE. 

CG: *THAT DOESN’T MEAN IT’S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!!!* 

CG: I JUST WANTED TO KNOW IF YOU DID WILLS, HOW DID *THAT* BECOME *THIS*???? 

AA: But n0, I admittedly cann0t listen t0 him in the way bey0nd 

GC: C4N YOU SM33L TH4T K4RL3S? 

CG: THE SMELL OF UMBRIDLED *BULLSHIT?* 

CG: YEAH 

CG: ITS FUCKING PUNGENT. 

GC: NO! 1 M34N TH3 SM33L OF HOP3! 

AA: I w0uldn’t g0 that far 

AA: It’s n0t because I cann0t hear him that he d0esn’t die 

AA: That just means that, whenever he d0es, he sees n0 reas0n t0 c0ntact  the living again  

CG: I THOUGHT YOU COULD FIND THE DEAD PERSON YOU WANTED  TO TALK TO. 

AA: Indeed I can, but hell is vast 

CG: WHY WOULD YOU THINK I WENT TO HELL????? 

GC: OH K4RKL3S. 

AA: 0h Karkat... 

CG: FUCK THE BOTH OF YOU.  

AA: 0v0 

GC: >XD 

GC: BUT HON3TLY, YOU C4NT S4Y YOU N3V3R S4W TH4T COM1NG 

CG: THAT WAS THE ONLY HOPE I HAD IN THIS SHITFEST! 

CG: I’M ALREADY SAD AND PISSED AND DEPRESSED AND MISERABLE THAT IM GOING TO DIE 

CG: COULDN’T YOU HAVE ALLOWED ME TO DELUDE MYSELF WITH *AT LEAST* A CHANCE THAT I WOULDN’T GO STRAIGH OUT TO *FUCKING  HELL???* 

AA: Well, I just saw s0mething very c0ncerning 0_0. 

CG: LIKE THAT’S AND UNUSUAL OCURRENCE. 

GC: WH4T D1D YOU S33? 

AA: Karkat. 

CG: THE MORE I LISTEN TO THIS, THE MORE I JUST WISH I HAD HAD  MORE TIME TO STUFF MY FACE WITH THE THINGS I LIKE THE MOST. 

GC: L1K3 COFF33 4ND PUSSY? 

AA: 0///0 

AA: I think that might be t00 much inf0rmati0n f0r me, guys 

CG: GREAT WORK, TEREZI! NOW YOU GOT ARADIA TO FEEL  UNCOMFORTABLE. 

GC: MY B4D ‘R4D14, BUT K4RKL3S H4S B33N 4 P41N 1N TH3 4SS  R3C3NTLY – MOR3 TH4N USU4L – 4ND 1 H4V3 TH3 TH3ORY TH4T  TH4T’S B3C4US3 H3 H4SN’T GOTT3N FR12SKY W1TH 4NYON3 1N 4  WH1L3. 

CG: EVEN IF THAT WAS TRUE - AND IT IS NOT! - IT WOULD BE NONE OF  YOU BITCHES GODDAMNED BUSINESS! 

AA: Regardless 0f his sexual advances 

GC: OR L4CK TH3R3 OF 

CG: JUST FUCK YOU, GUYS. 

AA: He isn’t al0ne in hell, and that is the strangest thing 

AA: Y0u are d0wn there with him, Tz 

CG: TEREZI DIES TOO????? 

AA: I cannot say 

AA: It l00ks like s0, but d0esn’t feel like that’s the case 

AA: And there are a c0uple 0f 0ther pe0ple d0wn there t00 

GC: L1K3 WHO >:? 

AA: Dave, y0u tw0, Vriska and Dave’s 0lder br0ther 

CG: THAT MAKES NO SENSE 

CG: IF HIS BROTHER DIES, DAVE SHOULDN’T DIE 

AA: What feels the weirdest is that n0 0ne is receiving their punishment 

GC: K1NKY >:] 

AA: In hell pe0ple are assigned a punishment t0 suffer f0r eternity 

AA: Y0u guys are all t0gether and very much 0kay 

AA: Als0, there are tw0 0f y0u, Karkat 

AA: Why are there tw0 0f y0u? 

GC: TH1S 1S 4LL V3RY ODD. BUT TH4T M34NS W3 4LL D13, R1GHT >:? 

AA: There has been cases 0f pe0ple that managed t0 g0 t0 hell whilst alive 

AA: Hercules, Dante and many m0re 

AA: Alth0ugh less known  

AA: Likely because 0f their untimely deaths 0_0 

CG: THAT’S ALL VERY INFORMATIVE AND ALL BUT DO WE DIE OR  NOT? 

AA: I can only see glimpses of hells future 

AA: I don’t know if y0u are there alive 0r dead, guys 

AA: S0rry. 

CG: GREAT! 

CG: NOT ONLY I HAVEN’T THE SLIGHTEST FUCKING CLUE IF I’M  ACTUALLY GOING TO DIE OR NOT, THERE IS A WHOLE POSSIBILITY  THAT EVEN IF I STAY ALIVE, I’M GOING TO HELL *ANYWAY!* 

CG: AWESOME 

CG: UNBELIEVABLE 

CG: OR AS DAVE WOULD SAY “DOPE” 

AA: If y0u are s0 w0rried ab0ut dying, why d0n’t you perf0rm a s0ul b0nd? 

GC: MY F1RST GU3S WOULD B3 TH4T 1TS B34US3 H3 DO3ST KNOW  WH4T 4 SOUL BOND 1S. 4ND N31T3R DO 1, BUT 1 4M 1NT3R3ST3D 1N  KNOW1NG >:] 

AA: Well. The first thing y0u will need is s0me0ne with a death wish and m0re  time up their sleeves then y0u. 

GC: OOOOF. TOUGH ST4RT >: [ 

CG: ACTUALLY, I THINK I KNOW SOMEONE THAT SHOULD FIT THAT  BILL PERFECTLY. 

AA: If it’s S0llux, he is n0t int0 the wh0le 

AA: I need t0 die  

AA: thing, anym0re. 

CG: YEAH, NO SHIT. I WAS THE ONE LOOKING THE FUCKER SELF  FLAGELATING AND TRYING TO SELF-FELATE IN SELF PITY/HATRED 

GC: YOU C4NT S4Y YOU’R3 TOO F4R OFF OF H1M, K4RKL3S 

CG: AT THE VERY FUCKING LEAST IM CONSISTENT WITH THE SELF- HATRED THING AND DON’T CHANGE IT EVERY OTHER HOUR JUST  CAUSE. 

CG: BUT NO, ARADIA, SOLLUX IS OUT OF MY LINE OF SIGHT. 

CG: AS MUCH FUN AS IT WOULD BE TO NEVER LISTEN TO HIS  ANNOYING LISP EVER AGAIN, I HAVE TO MUCH APPRECIATION OF HIM  AS A FRIEND TO THINK ABOUT PLACING HIM AS A SACRIFICIAL GOAT. 

CG: AND IF ANYONE EVER TELLS HIM I SAID THAT, I WILL DENY IT  FROM BEYOND THE FUCKING GRAVE, GOT IT? 

GC: TH3N WHO DO YOU 1NT3ND OF PUTT1NG 4S TH3 S4CR1F1C14L  GO4T >:? 

CG: SOMEONE VERY FUCKING DANGEROUS.  

_____________________________________________________________ 

I woke up monday slithering out of Strider’s arms in the sneakiest way I could, trying not to wake him up and expecting to find the living room empty, but since when do people respect the fact I never lock doors?  

Hence why I had another blonde douchebag sitting in my living room like he owned the place, and not me. 

Dave’s older brother was sitting in my armchair, texting away on his pony-sticker riddled iPhone, his black hilted katana right beside him and stuck in my floor boards. 

A shiver of rage ran up my spine. He is not the one that is going to be forced to pay for that damage, I am. If he wanted to have a try at cutting my head off of my shoulders he could AT LEAST be civilized about it. 

MAKING A DENT IN MY FLOOR DOESN’T QUALIFY AS THAT, ASSHOLE! 

Okay. No. I have a proposition to make. Whatever chance I have at getting him to agree with the absurdity that Terezi and Aradia are planning depends on him being willing. I can’t just lash out on him. 

I really fucking HATE negotiations. 

He sees me, pockets his phone and grips the sword, standing. I look at him, eyeing him up and down like he’s here to pass a model interview and I don’t want to give him any hope. 

He points me the sword. 

“You’re coming with me.” 

“I thought you only did assassinations. You do kidnappings too? Can I hire you to kidnap me in my bachelor party and reenact The Hangover?” 

“Holy shit. You have been spending too much time with Dave.” 

I shrug. 

“We live together, genius. That’s a fucking given. Or did you need to google that up?” 

“Quit the sass Vantas. If you don’t go nicely I’ll just take you incapacitated.” 

“I have a better idea,” he makes a battle stance, ready to jump “ I have a deal for you.” 

He relaxes a little and gives a harsh laugh. 

“You’re gonna try to bargain for your life?” 

“Something like that. Want coffee?” 

“If you’re going to try to bargain me with the devil’s black beans, know that I already had my dosage of caffeine today.” 

I go downstairs and turn left to the kitchen while trying to get my point across. 

“I know that you want to die.” 

He seems a bit surprised and my knowledge disarms him for an instance. 

“I don’t know the actual reason why, but I do know that you are currently immortal.” 

I get to the kitchen and start separating the stuff to brew my coffee. 

“I also know that Dave is not going to kill you.” 

“You can’t know that.” 

“Because Rose told you?” 

“How do you-” 

“Or because you think he hates you enough to kill you?” 

“I know he doesn’t, but that can be remedied.” 

“You tortured him for years and he still didn’t. Do you really think so? Cause I think you’re being stupid. Only dumb and crazy people do the same shit over and over and over and expect a different result.” 

“You think you’re so smart but you don’t know anything.” 

“I don’t need all the details to know that we could strike a mutually beneficial deal out of this if you just stop thinking with your ass and let me speak.” 

“And what do you have to offer me? Coffee? You can’t kill me.” 

“That doesn’t mean I can’t find a way to ensure you die.” 

He seems taken aback, and I just keep pouring hot water on the black powder, not really focusing on his face. 

“I’ve tried everything. Burning, drowning, bleeding to death, decapitation, gun shot, asphyxiation, hanging, getting crushed to death. There’s not a single thing I haven’t tried and I’m still here.” 

“Do you know what a soul bond is?” I prompt. 

He keeps still, so I just keep talking. 

“I’m going to die soon.” 

He just stays impassive. 

“You aren’t going to die soon.” 

“And?” 

“And your sister saw me die.” 

“Okay. I’m not stupid. I get it. You’re dead. What’s in it for me?” 

“The soul bond would make you a dead man yourself.” 

“Because you’re certain you’re going to die.” 

“Precisely.” 

“And if I died because you died, Dave wouldn’t have to kill me.” 

I nod. We stay quiet for a minute, listening to the water pouring down. 

“What happens if you live?” he asks, suddenly. 

“What do you mean?” I try to play dumb. 

“Whatever this is, it’s unlikely to be a definitive one way. If you die, I die. But what if you get to live because I get to live?” 

I admit I hadn’t thought he’d pick up on that, even because the possibility of not dying was very scarce across my mind. 

“You also don’t know, do you?” 

Shit. 

He stays quiet for a second and then comes up with his side of the negotiation. 

“If neither of us dies, you’re coming with me willingly.” 

I should pay attention to this, and the water has run out, so I place the recipient on the kitchen isle. 

“Where?” 

“Somewhere you won’t like.” he answers. 

“Skaia?” I force the question out. 

“If your question is if I’m going to deliver you to de SCPD, the answer is no. We already have a family member that want’s your head for that purpose. And if she- I MEAN HE! I mean he. If he puts his hand on you, your dead.” 

“Then where are you going to take me?” 

To each spoken word he raised a finger. 

“Two words. Clown Cult.” 

“THEY are the ones PAYING you?” 

“I don’t check the pay-check origin. I cash in. Are you in or are you out?” 

It’s not like I have much of a choice. 

“I’m in. Come back here wednesday night for us to perform the ceremony.” 

Out of the blue, the douchebag snorts. 

“With the way we’re taking this it almost sounds like I’m marrying my little brother’s boy toy.” 

“I would never marry someone like you! I have something called standards. Ever heard of it?” 

“Same, but you can’t say you don’t see the resemblance. You made me a proposal, we are having a ceremony, if you tell me there is a consummation I’m gonna make you give me a ring, Vantas. Also, I top.” 

I show him both my middle fingers. 

“Karkat! Don’t put sugar on my coffee. I want to try it out!” 

Fuck! Dave woke up and sniffed the smell. I start pushing his brother to the closest window. 

“Get out of here! If he sees you, all hell will break lose.” 

“Oh. So now I’m the other one?” 

“Well, now I know where he got his twisted sense of humor. Just get out!” 

I push him out the window, look to see if Dave got down or not, look outside and give him one last warning. 

“Wednesday. 10 pm. Now vanish.” 

I shut the window quickly, but the closeness of Dave’s voice startles me. 

“You never leave the window open.” Dave comments from behind my back. 

“I was just throwing out,” I look out the window to see if he was getting up to leave, but he had already vanished, like I told him “a possum.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was way quicker.  
> I think I might have more of a Karkat mindset than a Dave one.  
> Welp.  
> No more fluff for you.  
> Lets get some plot going.


	29. Dave

If I managed to look any more swell, Narcissus would have to come down of his high-horse on Mount Olympus and come lick my nut-sack, cause holy shit, I just look that delicious. 

My hair is always impeccable, but Karkat dug a come-up from my wardrobe that I didn’t even ever conceive to be a thing. 

Yeah, he had some help from his vampire goth friend, but hot diggidy damn, I could kiss myself on that mirror and not be ashamed. 

The only means of getting me to look any more orgasmic-inducing would be to see me butt-naked, but that would be on a level that I’d just shine through retinas so hard people would think to be staring at the sun. 

But even if I was looking this swell, the guy wouldn’t leave the phone and spare a single look my way or second to talk to me, arranging a thousand different things at the same time. 

Effort comparable to that of a chief of state, I’ll admit. 

The door rings. 

“Oh thank god!” he praises to the sky. 

“Dude, what are you so up to that you’re relenting the  _fucks_  and  _shits_  for the god’ol Lord?” I pester him. 

“Way too many things wrapped in the other two.” he says earnest. 

I follow him down but stop in the middle of the stairs and see a guy with a box waiting for Karkat to open the door by the window. 

He seems simple. Like a delivery pizza guy that was just trying to cash some extra moolah. 

I lean on the banister of the stairs to look at Karkat scream at the guy’s face about one of the things that was supposed to have arrived but didn’t. 

What is he up to?  

Why did he even order that stuff?  

What could be so important that he’d let the phone glued to his face?  

Weird. 

The guy tries to make sure Karkat ain’t having a rage aneurism which is a  _fantastic_  sight to have, and I actually have to cover my mouth up not to show the smile I’m sporting. 

What can I do? His tantrums are just hilarious. 

I need to put my head back in place, though. Elword’s not waiting for anything other than the true Strider Experience. 

Which involves a lot of ironic references, not enough expressions, some sick rapping about things not related to gay subjects – shut up, Rose – and being thoroughly swooped off your feet. 

Wait. Hold on for a second longer than my dick. 

Okay, I am absolutely able of not emoting in normal situations but, how do I do that during sex? 

OH FUCK. 

Should I even consider that?  

Should I not take the Shades off?  

It’s a one-time thing, I don’t think I should take the Shades off. 

But am I even capable of being frigid? 

I sit on the stairs and remember several times in which I was moaning onto a pillow in the middle of the night and many more times that the shower-head made a great work of muffling me over. 

Shit- I think I might be a vocal orgasmer. 

This is bad. This is so unbelievably bad. 

How come I never thought about that before today???? 

Her expectations will be broken so hard she might just chop my willie off with her cooch out of frustration. 

Maybe I should just ask her if is she’s bothered... 

 Actually, no.  

Karkat told me not to ask her anything, cause that can make her think I’m doubting her leadership. 

Or something. 

The delivery guy is sent away with such intricate expletives I can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t even know what he was being cussed of. 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING STANDING THERE LIKE A LIMP SLOTH WITH MENTAL RETARDEDNESS??? GO FETCH WHAT I FUCKING PAYED FOR! AND DON’T COME BACK WITHOUT THE FUCKING HIGHLIGHTED ITEMS, GOT IT???” 

The guy ran for it like Karkat was a Texan middle-aged man threatening his life with a shotgun after fiding out the delivery guy was fucking his daughter without having asked her to marry him first.  

The door was smashed back in place by a very red-in-the-face Karkat. 

He was seething.  

I was snickering, cause holy fuck, how can someone be this genuine? 

“What the fuck you snickering at?” He asks, huffing from screaming. 

“A self-entitled douchebag that can’t stop blushing.” 

“I’M NOT BLUSHING! I AM PISSED AT THAT SHITBLISTERED FUCKWAD BECAUSE THE DELIVERY SYSTEM IS AS INCOMPETENT AS OUR POLITICIANS, AND I NEED WHAT I NEED RIGHT FUCKING NOW!” 

“What do you even need, man? Maybe I can go do a quick recovery mission for the sake of your throat health. Don’t be wanting my best bro not being able to use the back end of his mouth to swallow thick and delicious things, like be stuck on drinking soup like one of those old ladies that don’t got teeth anymore, ya’feel me?” 

“I’ll fucking punch you in your perfect glass jaw if you keep spewing sexual bullshit at me for no fucking reason, Strider. I’m obnoxiously not in a good mood to indulge in your hazardous joking habit right now.” 

“What? No! There was not- Like- yeah I do have something to ask you about that but- What I said was totally not sexual and I didn’t mean to be sexual or to propose sex or to sound sexy or to make you sound sexy by being hoarse because of the throat thing and imma stop talking now.” 

He looks at me with a face of “what the fuck, dude?” and I fix my Shades trying to hide the heat in my face. Thank gog he shrugs it off fast, looking back at the delivered box. 

“Fuck me in the ass lubeless with a cactae specimen, it oughta hurt less than the FURY I am feeling right now coursing through my cursed veins. I would be lying if I told you I’ve never been this angry before, BUT HOLY FUCKING SHIT WITH RAINBOW SPRINKLES ON TOP, I HAVE NOT WANTED TO PUCH A NORMAL UNCLOWNED TOOL LIKE HIM IN THE FACE FOR WAY LONGER THAN I CAN REMEMBER. THIS IS WHY I LIVE IN THE WOOD, STRIDER. *THIS IS WHY I LIVE IN THE MOTHERFUCKING WOODS.*” 

“Dude, rainbow sprinkles?” 

“THEY TASTE SHITTIER THAN NORMAL SPRINKLES! AND NO ARGUMENT YOU GIVE ME IS EVER GONNA CHANGE THAT!” 

He grabs the box with – whatever the fuck. I can’t see. Shit’s still closed – and puts it in the kitchen isle with a sigh. 

“What the fuck are you even doing in here yet? Go meet your booty call or whatever it is that you want to call it. I’m going to regret forever for having let you use me as your playtest dummy but, you have no business being in here at this hour in this exact suffering-addled day of my miserable existence. Get out to have whatever your single half-damaged braincell considers to be  _fun._ ” 

Wow, he’s really all out kicking me out so he can be alone. 

This can’t be good. 

And I still have like’ an hour??? 

“What? Are you jealous you’re gonna have to share your best bro? That I’m too busy to let you drag me into another marathon of 27 Dresses, Mamma mia and Hitch? That bitches be lining up to get an eye full of my delicious bod?” 

“You’re going out on a date to practice intercourse with a woman I’ve never even seen before.” Dude, what are you? My dad? 

“You’re going to come back late if you even dignify yourself to come back at all.” Is he afraid I would choose not to come back? Why would I do that? My shit’s all here. 

“You’re very likely to get drunk off your ass because whenever you’re invested into something you just go at it like a toddler with depression, reckless abandon and a death wish. No, Strider. I’m not jealous of her spending the night listening to your never-ending rambles about obnoxiously fucked up shit. I’m worried you won’t be back tomorrow. Or if you are, that you were stupid enough to contract some overdeveloped form of gonorrhea, which reminds me-” 

He reaches for his wallet and takes a fresh out of the pharmacy pack of condoms. He extends them to me, face red as one of those fire-fighter-trucks kids have when their moms ask what they wanna be when they grow up and they answer  _a hero_  or something equally as fucked up. 

I pretend to be adjusting my Shades while I take the pack, so he can’t see how badly I'm freaking out, because lemme tell’ya: I’m freaking the fuck out. This is almost at the level of awkward that made me blush bashfully in the café. 

Or me feeling comfortable enough to sleep on his lap and waking up to a face-full of morning-wood because he slept on my hips and I didn’t have the forethought to not sleep on his thigh. 

That was a really awkward morning that I don’t really think about. 

It’s totally not a memory that keeps coming back. 

Because I was totally not staring at his full-on hard cock. 

Nope. 

I absolutely did not count that he’s probably an inch longer than me. 

Nope. 

Nope. 

This is infinitely worse than me cuddling him into sleepy land. 

This is broship on another level, yo.  

I should kiss him for thinking this far ahead cause I sure as fuck hadn’t. 

But now I can’t because the deal’s over today. 

The deal is over today. 

Dead and done for, duped and dunked like that guy on Marvus show. 

I’m never going to kiss him again. 

I’m never going to kiss or cuddle Karkat into sleep again. 

Ever. 

His plush, cozy, warm lips.  

Or-or his moist, dexterous, energetic tongue. 

And I’m not gonna be allowed to rub his back or watch his eyes droop when he verges into sleep. 

Or muss his hair by ruffling it when he lies in my bicep. 

Oh fuck, is that also for movie-night couch-blanket-snuggles? 

No more snuggles. 

No snuggles. 

Snuggless. 

I think I can’t breathe. 

And- and that means that I don’t get goodnight kisses anymore! 

And that means...  

That means I go back to sleeping alone too. 

Oh no. 

“Karkat, we can’t close the KCBB agreement yet.” 

“KCwhat the F?” 

“Kisses n’ Cuddles Between Bros. Keep up with my Strider genius for a second, man, I know it’s fast as lightning, but for realz we can’t break that shit off or I’ll cut the fuckin’ crib in half, bro.” 

“Dave, what the ever loving, caring, sweet and dangerous fuck are you going on and on and on about?” 

I bag the condom pack and lean forward on the counter that separates the kitchen from the living room, splaying both my hands on the marble. 

“If we stop the KCBB agreement you go back to having nightmares and insomnia, right?” 

“Duh, no shit, that’s been established over and over, dipshit.” 

“If I go back to sleeping alone in my room, I’m not going to sleep either. I’ll be on my toes 1000% of the time. Sleep so light you might confuse me with whipped-cream and try to lick my delicious face.” 

“DO I LOOK LIKE FUCKING TEREZI?” 

“Dude, you don’t need too heightened a taste to know I'm eye candy.” 

I waggle my eyebrow and he holds up a shaking fist. 

“You don’t need two braincells to know I can turn your smug face into a smudge face really quick, so make your goddamned point already.” 

“All I'm saying is, it’s a good deal we have going here, bro, we don’t be needing it to go all up n’ flames n’ shit. I hug you, you sleep, you snore and I don’t have to stay up listening to the cracks of doors and windows and floorboards and winds sounding wrong and the sound of dripping water or the ruffle of leaves up against the window or-” 

“OKAY. FUCK. I GOT IT.” 

“So that’s a yes on keeping this wagon of nice going?” 

“No.”  

“No?”  

NO?  

“No, I’m not okay with this deal.” 

WHY NOT? 

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck- 

“Oh...uh...is there something you’d like to add? What can I do for you tonight sir? Your wish be my command and all that.” 

“Look, I can deal with you occupying half my fucking bed for the sake of our mutual mental convenience, but you said you wanted to keep the Kcbb deal going. I’m not okay with that. If you had proposed the cbb deal, I’d have said yes without a second guess, but I’m far from any fucking standard of OKAY to keep the kissing thing.” 

My heart feels really tight, all of a sudden, and my stomach, knotted, twisted, heavy. 

I clench my jaw before trying to argue back. 

“You said kissing didn’t mean anything for you.” 

“Well- NEWSFLASH, DOUCHEBAG! I LIED THROUGH MY FUCKING TEETH! IT MEANS A LOT TO ME when someone decides their tongue should get COZIED UP TO MINE! Peckers really don’t mean shit, but if you go as far as we did, THINGS START TO MATTER AT SOME POINT!” 

I don’t even know how, but the tightness worsens. 

I want to tell him that was not just for him but...heck, I don’t know if it meant for him what it meant for me. 

And that’s what’s so scary. 

“Dude, you could not have gone that far, if it was that bad for you.” 

“It’s not about it being good or bad, even because I knew what I was getting myself at from the get go. You made it pretty clear you had no experience whatsoever and that’s not what this is about. But be fucking honest with me: would you feel as confident as you are for your date if we hadn’t gone that far?” 

I clench my fists, guilt swelling in my gut like a party balloon. 

I wouldn’t. 

But I guess I also wouldn’t be feeling this earth-shattering desperation all up and consuming the oxygen on my lungs.  

“I’m a man of serious relationships, Strider. Not of flings or one-night stands or whatever it is that you’re propositioning over there in your head. And I refuse to be part of some sick “cool” statistic for your entertainment just as much as I refuse to take part in a relationship where I would have to lie and deceit my friends because you want irony at every corner of your life.” 

“Wow, wow, wow! No one ever said anything about relationships. It was just what we were already doing, man. The agreement an’all.” 

This got too real too fast. 

“WHAT DO YOU THINK RELATIONSHIPS ARE? THEY ARE AGREEMENTS YOU KNUCLEHEAD! WHEN YOU START DATING SOMEONE YOU AGREE TO BE EXCLUSIVE! WHEN YOU MARRY YOU LITERALLY SIGN A CONTRACT ON IT!” 

It’s even hard to talk, but I steel my voice. 

“But for us it wasn’t like that. I made sure it wouldn’t be like that.” 

“That’s why it had an expiration date, you idiot.” he snarls “And that’s today. I’m not extending it indefinitely! WHAT IF I FOUND A PARTNER? WHAT IF YOU FOUND SOMEONE TO TIE DOWN YOUR ASS? THEN WHAT? DID YOU THINK OF THAT?? FAR FROM ME BE THE DAY I GET BETWEEN YOU AND THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE.” 

This is too heavy. I can’t take it so heavy. 

“Dude, the only way that can happen is if you grab an AJ carton an put it behind you. I’m just too smooth to settle down.” 

“Oh yeah?” he asks languidly with a raised brow “Cool. Than that means that, whatever this was, you’re not gonna miss it at all.” 

“Wha- no that’s not-” 

“WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE? YOU DON’T EVEN LIKE GUYS!” 

I fall silent. 

His head falls forward, eyes covered, but the sides of his mouth crinkle up at his bark. 

“Just go. Whoever the fuck she is, she’s waiting for you.” 

* * *

I come back at 3 a.m. to a house that’s completely dark. 

The air in the forest is misty and foggy and whatever the moon thinks she’s lightening is a joke. 

The dampness of the whole scenario makes Karkat’s house look haunted. Increase that by the fact all windows had their lights off. 

Wait. 

Karkat wasn’t going out from what he told me and since the deal is dead he can’t be asleep. At this time he’s usually watching Netflix or just fucking with his computer on his room. 

Sometimes I caught glimpses of him reading a book. 

But sleeping is very unusual, so why aren’t the lights on his room on? 

I step inside and drop my bag beside the door taking a deep breath because the night was...tiresome. 

The problem is that I smell something very concerning. 

Bro’s hair gel. 

It’s a very specific brand. It’s not any gel that gets hair that spiky and gravity-defying. 

It also stinks. He can’t ever use it sparingly. 

I flash-step up to my room to grab calledfelwch but stop midway when I confirm that Karkat is not in his room. 

Fear spikes. 

Bro was here. 

Karkat isn’t here anymore. 

What if Bro got him to try and lure me? 

I get my sword and come back to inspect the place. 

His room looks clean. No signs of struggle anywhere. 

Whatever happened, it wasn’t in here. 

I check all the other rooms on the up-floor stealthily. 

He’s nowhere, so I go down the stairs and check the kitchen and laundry. 

Also not there. 

I close my eyes and take a deep, shaky breath trying to think when my nostril are assaulted with a delicious smell of apple pie and cotton-candy. The smell is so good it gets me dizzy. 

When I understand what I’m smelling I open my eyes wide and start walking fast towards the source. 

It’s Karkat’s blood, and it’s coming from the basement. 

The stairs squeak under my weight and when I get down, the place is as dark as tar, so I light up the room. 

I wish I hadn’t. 

There’s blood everywhere. 

On the floor, on the ceiling, in and out of an inscription. 

The inscription was made in chalk with candles on cardinal points. 

In the middle, a wooden goblet is tumbled on its side. 

Some sort of ceremonial knife right beside it. 

The blood is already dry on the floor. I got here to late. 

What if he’s dead? 

There’s just so much blood everywhere. So much more than what I’m used to bleed. 

If Karkat is dead his body is already cold out there somewhere. 

I can’t. I can’t. If my best bro’s dead- If he’s dead- 

No. Calm the fuck down. 

He’s tough. He’s survived worse. 

Look at the evidence. 

Most of this shit probably came from what he ordered online. The box is here and it’s the same from before he left. Whatever this creepy ritual was, he intended it. 

There are no signs of struggle through the whole house. Nothing broken or scratched or even misplaced. 

He went either unconscious from blood loss, knocked out by an opportunity strike or willingly. 

I find it hard for him to do anything willingly, so he might have a concussion beyond the blood loss and he’s gonna have an aneurism or a hemorrhage and no, no, no. Focus. You don’t know that. 

There is one person in this equation that I'm dead sure knows what happened, though. 

And if he doesn’t give me Karkat back, he can be damn sure it’s gonna get ugly. 

**\--** turntechGodhead [TG] **began pestering**  timeusTestefied [TT]  **\--**

TG: you have two seconds to log the fuck on and tell me what happened 

TT: You, texting me? Is it christmas? 

TG: you have karkat 

TG: say the dudes alive 

TG: you better fucking tell me hes alive Bro 

TT: I don’t have to tell you anything. 

TT: He’s mine by contract. 

TT: I don’t own you anything, man. 

TT: Your boywife is mine until I decide I don’t want him anymore. 

TG: what the fuck do you mean hes yours? 

TG: what contract are you even talking about? 

TT: Wow. I’m feel kind of bad for you, dude. 

TT: He really bamboozled you good, didn’t he? 

TT: Though I would guess that’s partially your own fault. 

TT: You have the despicable quality of not understanding the subtext of some topics. 

TG: wow 

TG: roasted by my intellectual mentor 

TG: I feel so depressed rn 

TG: thanks Bro 

TG: now I have all I needed to kill myself and not let you even get the taste of how nice it feels to slice me right on open 

TG: fuck that noise though 

TG: you hate me yadayadayada 

TG: where is karkat 

TT: He’s right here with me doing... 

TT: The dishes??? 

TT: Just give me a second. 

Fuck. Karkat probably doesn’t know he’s not supposed to mess with kitchen appliances. Bro uses them to store dangerous shit. 

OH FUCK, THE FRIDGE. 

TG: TELL ME YOU TOLD HIM ABOUT THE FRIDGE! 

TT: Uhhhhhh, who are you and where did you send the lil’man? 

TG: tell me you told him about the fridge 

TT: What would I tell him about the fridge?  

TT: He’s cleaned it already, man. 

TT: What’s up with that neatness mania, anyway? 

TT: The guy is going haywire all around the crib. 

TG: he cleaned the fridge? 

TT: Somehow, yes. Sorted the swords by shape, size and durability. 

TT: Impressive work, really. 

TG: where did he put them?? 

TT: The walls. It actually looks nice. I think he actually labeled a cookie jar to put the shuriken's in there. 

TT: I’m lending him your room until his time comes 

TT: Hope you don’t mind. 

TT: Wait a second, he’s messing with Cal. 

TG: if you put your hands on him ill chop em off 

TT: You couldn’t make me quiver with a sword up against my neck. 

TT: Resign, lil’man. You are what I made of you. 

TG: seriously Bro if he gets hurt im not gonna kill you 

TG: if you hurt him for any fucking reason im going to torture you for the rest of your life span 

TG: ill strap you to a chair and rip your nails one by one  

TG: and when I get bored ill chop your limbs off your torso 

TG: and burn then so they never grow back 

TG: ill crush your shades into bitesize shards and make you eat them 

TG: ill pour salty lemon on your mouth and then vinegar 

TG: ill gauge your eyes and sell then on the black market 

TG: and when im sick and tired of having to put an effort into torturing you 

TG: ill just throw your body into a pit of famished rats 

TG: and watch in delight while you scream 

TG: maybe ill make a rap in your honor 

TG: itll be as shitty as you 

TG: don’t worry 

TT: . . . 

TT: And I’m the bad guy? 

TT: If it wasn’t so driven by emotion I could even say I was proud but- 

TT: Yet again, you are a disappointment. 

TT: Karkat will be fine 

TT: For now. 

TT: I don’t have to kill him. 

TT: Just bring him over to a rendezvous point. 

TT: But he’s probably as good as dead, honestly. 

TT: Those clowns didn’t seem like they were playing around. 

TT: On a less depressing note 

TT: How was your date? Karkat won’t stop mumbling about your girlfriend. 

TT: Who would have thought that Rose was wrong all along? 

TT: It even makes me rethink life. 

TG: the date was shit 

TG: make sure he knows that 

TG: and she’s not my girlfriend 

TT: Ah.  

TT: Then we still have a chance to bring you to the dark side. 

TT: Maybe if I threatened Karkat’s life a little, you would come through and out of the closet already. 

TG: if you think hes some hapless chap youll get your ass kicked 

TT: I trained you myself and you can barely stand your ground but even you could kick his ass. 

TT: And Karkat’s like’ the twinkiest twink to ever exist. 

TG: ill pretend i don’t know what that is so i don’t have to acknowledge you were checking him out 

TG: he kills clowns 

TT: The guy that’s currently doing my dishes kills people? 

TT: The guy that assorted my swords by shape and size. 

TT: The guy that swooped my floor and assorted my smuppets? 

TG: why the fuck did he do all that? 

TT: He’s really fucking bothered by it apparently. 

TT: He also did the laundry for realz.  

TT: Even my underwear. 

TT: It’s the first time I have fresh underwear in months. 

TG: what the fuck man 

TG: thats gross as shit 

TG: you just turned it around and used the other side? 

TT: I’m not that gross a person. I’d throw them off and buy new ones. 

TT: Underwear is not really that expensive when you’re swimming on century-old dough. 

TT: He even managed to find a pair of mittens Rose knitted to me almost half a decade ago. It obviously doesn’t fit and it’s still ugly as shit but they are such nice memories I’m thinking about turning them into key-chains. 

TT: Though I guess that’s a bad idea. 

TT: It’s the kinda bullshit she’d hate. 

TG: how can he be doing all of this? 

TG: the roof is coated in his blood 

TG: he should be resting 

TG: fuck he should be plain out unconscious 

TT: He stitched himself back together 

TT: Didn’t even flinch by the pierce of the needle 

I flinch at the thought. 

I should have stayed home. 

I should have asked him if he needed help. 

I should have been here. 

Now he’s stuck in a death trap of puppet ass and sharp shit cause my dick and my head can’t agree on priorities. 

TT: I guess the guy just can’t get any shuteye or something. 

TG: okay yeah that sounds like him alright 

TT: And he’s just really going at it, man. 

TG: he shouldnt be doing shit if hes hurt 

TT: He’s apparently done with the dishes, so now he started to sort the cupboards. 

TT: Smuppet dunk in  

TT: 3 

TT: 2 

TT: 1 

TT: Yessssss. 

Karkat is gonna be so fucking pissed. 

TG: run 

TT: What? Why? 

TG: hes coming to chew you in  

TG: 3 

TG: 2 

TG: 1 

**\--** timeusTestified [TT]  **ceased pestering** turntechGodhead [TG]  **\--**

Thank fuck he’s okay. 

I give a tiny smile that dies really fast. 

I just hope I can do something to make it stay that way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to rewrite this chapter 4 times before I was satified with it's contents  
> shit is going down, people.  
> the climax is coming  
> and i don't mean the good one  
> we're reaching the end  
> i think i could make like' 4 more chapters and call it the end  
> though i don't know if that's an end you guys will be okay with or not  
> but lets see, right?
> 
> BIG ASS THANKS TO EVERY KUDOS, BOOKMARK, SUBSCRIPTION AND COMMENTARY!  
> YALL THAT DO THOSE HELP ME BIG TIME!  
> THANK YOU!!!!!


	30. Karkat

The guy was so inscrutable a  candle waxed shittly  made doll could show more emotion with her dead eyes and soul-eating tiny mouth.

It’s unsettling as shit.

He’s worse than Dave by all aspects of the specter, and Dave’s poker-face already annoys the ever-living shit out of me. 

Mostly because he always downs it when he’s upset.

I hope that our conversation didn’t ruin his date. 

It’s not like I’m going to be here for too long to pursue a relationship with anyone and it’s not like he showed himself inclined to go after anything that’s not a one-night-stand. With a girl.

But even if I’m too hopeless and stupid to stop deluding myself that he is ever going to grow a second braincell and decide to try having a real relationship, even if not with me, I do honestly hope that he gets to be happy when all this is said and done.

As for Dave’s brother, he looks exactly as what I would picture Dave being like when verging his 30’s. Face wise, cause that much gel in a head is making that guy grow bold before his 40’s. Bleargh.

“Hey, housewife, I don’t know why I feel like I should tell you this at all, but the kiddo is saying thanks. His date went awesome.”

I can’t tell if he is being serious or trying to take a shit on what’s left of my self-esteem.

Not that I would be surprised Dave could score, even without my help. I get why he asked for it but, fuck, the guy just lost an entire range of possibilities of playing the bashful dimwit.

That’s obviously not what he’s into, but good looking and naïve are like, the best combination of attributes to go around getting your dick soggier than high school toilet paper.

** Jealous much, dude? Admit it. You wished he’d stayed that day. **

** Because you were jealous. **

I WAS NOT! HE’S NOT EVEN INTO GUYS. I NEVER HAD A CHANCE. WHAT THE BLISTERING FUCK WOULD I EVEN HAVE TO BE JELOUS ABOUT?

JUST GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD. ****

“What’s it that you’re mumbling about?”

“If you were supposed to know about it, you think I would be fucking mumbling, douchebag? Mind your own fucking business.”

I have to find something shorter to call him than Dave’s brother. Shades? No. Definitely not. Even if I never saw Dave  again  I know he would be offended with how much he loves those fucking glasses.

Oh. My. God. It just strikes me.

Could he actually have been so dense as to wear them during the act?

** Oh, wow. He  ** ** definitely ** **  did. **

Ohhhhh , I don’t think I want to know.

** But we do. The imagery is as disturbing as it is sexy, somehow?? **

Noooooooo . I don’t  want to  think about this. 

“Wow.” he says. What the fuck is he seeing on that phone?

I get a sponge and start scrubbing the sink. Get my mind out of things.

How can anyone live in this much filth? My house is dusty at best and cockroach filled at worst but OH FUCK THAT’S A RAT IN THE SINK.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Suddenly I see shuriken's flying up in the air and impaling the rat on the wall. It dies with a loud squeak and its blood starts running down back into the sink.

“HOW DO YOU LIVE LIKE THIS?”

He ignores me completely, opens the fridge and takes an orange soda from the door, muttering “wows” and “ kinkys ” while scrolling on his iPhone’s feed of whatever. I can only assume it to be  instagram .

“I don’t. I just come back to shower, sleep and play videogames, dude. Anytime I feel the bowels of my gut grumble like they are  gonna  start a war I just order a pizza. No dishes to wash. I can eat all of it by my lonesome so no storage space needed. And I don’t really care what I eat cause this bod’s like, hell given. I can’t get fat if I want to.  So  whatever.”

Okay. That’s an unfair advantage right there by the end.

“When was the last time you had a homecooked meal?”

He stops to stare at nothing, thinking.

“When Rox was still a girl. Right before she went to serve the military. It was pasta but it tasted like shit. I still ate a  fuckton  of it or else she’d shoot me in the head. I remember Dave getting green from fork after fork and Rose just plain out refused to eat. That was the last time I had a homecooked meal, and fuck, I don’t miss it. It really tasted like shit.”

“Your family really has a pattern when it comes to food.”

Dave can’t cook to save his life but he does have a way with knives.

“No shit. Dave bitches that I didn’t feed him, but at least I kept the house full of things that could fill his stomach. He was just too much of a wuss to come out of his room and fight for it, like a fucking man.”

I take the rubber-gloves off and dry my hand. Then I go for the cookie-jar. He’s still tapping idly in his phone, and I get three of the cold metal death stars.

“Hey, douchebag, heads up.” I say, throwing a single one.

When he looks up my prediction skills prove themselves useful and accurate.

It hits the upper part of his pointy  dumb anime -like sunglasses, making them fly back and exposing surprised honey-colored eyes.

What’s with Striders having pretty eye colors?

“Don’t talk shit about Dave, or the next one is going to be on your forehead.” 

He swoops a hand through the lower part of his face before speaking.

“You know that if you kill me, you die too, right?”

He lifts his arm to prove his point.

A nasty line runs up the inside of his forearm, matching the one on my arm.

Fuck. I hope I don’t survive this bullshit, cause if I  do,  I’m the one who’s going to have to clean all the dried blood from the ritual.  Bleargh .

I look at the rat in the wall and flinch.

Yeah, my rodent estranged friend, I won't be so different from you in a couple days. Hopefully.

“Though if my Shades are busted, I will bust your face.”

He jumps out of the sofa and grabs the plastic piece of shit sunglasses, wrenching the shuriken out of the tip and realizing it’s got a dent.

Vengeance for my beautiful hardwood floor accomplished. Look where you stick your sword, before you go making holes in other people’s houses,  you  autistic dung-beetle. Rolling your shit around like you own the fucking place.

My heart skips a beat when he suddenly vanishes. The fucking puppet starts to fly around like a ghost is pulling its heartstrings and I’m stricken with a memory of  Gamzee , sober. Dread alike creeps up my back and I get punched in the face, being thrown across the apartment floor.

MOTHERFUCKER.

I think he made one of my molars fall off. I spit and yeah. One less tooth on my mouth.

“You better not expect me to be nice to you just cause you’re my brother’s boytoy. I can take you  wanna  clean up house or whatever, but if you break my  shit  I’ll break all the bones your body has.” He puts the plastic trash back on his face.

“And then what? You’re  gonna  piss around the house too to mark your fucking territory?”

“I could, dawg. This is my fucking crib, right Cal?”

Shit, my blood is starting to pool around my lips.

“But you wouldn’t withstand the glorious sight of my family jewels. Everybody who’s seen it died.” he adds the last part with a smirk. “Too glorious for mere mortals.”

I snicker and the other two stars his way. The first, directed at his head, making his have to focus on getting his head off the way not to get the cold metal deeper in his head than the dick brain he probably possesses.

The second one is straight out for the creepy puppet and cuts his neck in half like butter forgotten out of the fridge with a sharply heated kitchen knife. Very pleasing to watch.

Dave’s brother looks at the puppet, at me, at the puppet, at me, at the puppet and fixes his stare dead center on my twisted-up form with outstretched arms.

Seriously, motherfucker, you don’t need so much performance to make me understand you’re displeased just cause your facial features are too goddamned incompetent to make you show some decent facial contraction that could, probably, come to resemble an expression.

He vanishes.

Seconds later he is above my form in a jump with his sword ready to get struck inside my head.

I roll out of the way and he plunges the sharp, deadly thing into the ground to the hilt.

I kick him in the face with both feet and get him away from his choice weapon of mass  idiocracy , running to the kitchen right after.

He  reapears  right in front of me with Katana at the ready.

HOW DID HE GET THAT THING OF THE GROUND???

He lunges towards me and I grab the rest of his doll, suspending it right above the thrash processor.

“IF YOU COME CLOSER, HE GOES DOWN, STRIDER!”

He stops dead in his tracks, jaw pressed on tight.

I could fucking hear his teeth gritting against each other, but still no expression crossed his face.

I blinked and looked down.

A moment later, his blade was across my heart and I had been run through, stuck against the refrigerator.

Blood started wheeling up in my throat and dripping down my chin.

This up close, I could tell he was very angry, eyebrows drawn in, pupils wide and widening, the constant stream of my private curse pooling around his feet.

I spit in his face and feel my vision blacking out slowly, puppet falling down and soaking into the mess.

Fuck.

I just cleaned the kitchen, you ungrateful shit.

My eyes wonder over the house, locking with the rat of the wall.

Heh.

I guess Dave was onto something when making ironic jokes.

I wonder if he’d laugh.

If he’d get it.

If he-

…

..

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fighting scene was fun to write >:]
> 
> Bigass cliff hanger there for ya'll.
> 
> As always, I hope you like it.  
> Thanks to everybody who's been following so far.


	31. Rose

The door of my childhood holds many memories hostage as I approach it in measured steps. It separates the delicate balance I had built in my exile throughout the decades, but even as the physical barrier moves as close as my feet make it, the striking smell of a branded martini wafts past my nostrils - a syren’s seductive touch.

It’s temptation's definition.

And it is so because it smells safe and ordinary and...usual.

As we reach the breaking point between utter doom and some semblance of salvation, the visions make themselves harder and harder to bear. They come and go as they please, intensity varying according to the serendipity of the universe’s joke, unpatterned, maddening, swivelling.

And that is what makes it so much more than enjoyment or recreation or plain hedonism. It’s craving for less pain, for being less burdened.

It is literally the one thing that dimmed the mammoth weight of knowing.

When someone has a headache or cramps, they don’t stand idly waiting for them to pass. They don’t introspect their pain.

They find something to fix it.

Something, or someone.

That thought drives me forward faster, because if there’s ever one person that, even in face of adversity always has a plan, always has a path, for as torturous as it may seem, it’s him.

Dirk must have guessed that this was going to be the moment of my arrival, but he would never auxiliate me into indulging my habits. Not with the lows he’s seen me dive into, as if they were a sea of intricately carved faces of the most beautiful, deceiting, sexual woman I had ever gazed upon.

Opening the door makes the smell worsen and in tipsy footing I step my way out of the entrance hall and into a scene most gruesome.

Karkat is perforated by the Unbreakable Katana to it’s hilt. His mouth drools with thick streams of blood and his eyes have lost all their color, leaving him looking exactly like a soulless husk of meat.

The rat on the wall mimics him, a shuriken stuck in it’s middle.

On the ground, my brother is rocksolid. Unmoving except for the few quivers that overcome him every once in a while.

I crouch near him and take his eyewear away from his face, staring into blown wide pupils that leave almost no space for his unusual honeyed irises. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t focus, cannot gaze at anyone or anything. 

By the way he looks, I would guess he might be having an overdose. The best thing I could do to ease it for him would be to carry his body out of it and into the shower. Clean the substance.

I try calling his name, taking his hand, pulling him by his clothes, but his body mass makes it impossible for me to suspend him alone. I look at the body stuck on the refrigerator and then back at my sibling, noticing something strange and unusual in his arm.

A very peculiar, patterned scar.

I step with my boots onto the growing pool of blood, resigned that it shall grow to wherever it may by gravity standards, and reach for his arms, lifting the softly woven cloth of the black and gray sweater he died in.

Exactly as I suspected, one of his arms had the exact same pattern caved into the skin.

My eyes wonder on over and across the kitchen when I spot Cal. Headless.

The pieces are starting to connect. They had a fight and Karkat probably targeted Cal thinking it to just be a useless toy while Dirk was distracted. They probably fought over for a bit and Dirk lost his temper.

A rare occurrence, but frightening, nonetheless, as one can witness.

I grab the sword and give it a tug, assessing it to be very stuck. I grab it with the other hand and try, with much more effort than someone in boots and sliding on a bloody puddle should, to wrench it out of the refrigerator and the body.

After much effort, I manage to pull the weapon out of the corpse’s body and even though what happens next is something I have seen a thousand times before, it surprises me to witness it happening to none other than the body that, mere seconds ago, lied limp and loose.

His scar starts the process of closing. Thin tethers of skin stretch from both sides and are woven together in the middle, treading into and above each other, patching the opposing sides of his skin into a single piece again and stopping the oozing red liquid from keeping to flow.

Exhaustion strikes me and in my frail attempt to keep on standing, I drop the sword and lean into the sink, ever careful with my feet as to avoid stepping on my brother.

Rethinking my wardrobe choice I acknowledge it was probably foolish of me to have kept my winter dress in the scorching heat of Houston, Texas.

Regaining my breath, I stand, as presentable as one with drenched attire and sweating horrors could.

“Glad to finally make your acquaintance in the flash, Karkat.” I welcome him, when his eyes start to finally fill with life again “I’m fairly sure you must have figured this little riddle out by now, but in any case, I’m Rose.”

He looks at me through a haze of his mind coming crawling back into his body, breathing ragged. I know the sensation well.

At this point, his lungs must be still being filled by the nourishing oxygen all living things are subjected to, but just as if he was a newborn, the first breath is usually desperate and painful. He looks pained.

Pained and confused.

“Now, since you seem to be well and truly alive once again, would you maybe stop being a burdensome nuisance for me to take care of, and help me carry his body into the showering stall?”

“What the fuck! He tried to kill me, why would I help him?”

“Technically, he didn’t just try as much as he succeeded, but semantics apart there is a very compelling argument for why you should bring him to the showering stall.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“I helped you. And because I know you are going to be chivalrous and I’m asking for your help candidly, you are going to hoist your behind from this gruesome murder scene and help me.”

We exchange looks, and though his defiance might be endearing and, I’ll come to admit, even adorable - I truly understand why Dave would fancy him, of all people - my smug and raw wit wins him over.

I can tell by his piercing gaze he is measuring me up, trying to extract my intentions from my facial expression and mannerisms, and though that will be a fruitless endeavour, I can’t help but be amused

He stands and reaches to suspend my sibling, although not without first making his mind known.

“You’re weird and just as putrid as this piece of shit” he assesses, adjusting the bodily weight of Dirk on his back and shoulders “which means I don’t like you, trust you, or give any remote amount of shits about you.”

He snarls, the corners of his mouth drawing out with distaste and fear and menace “If this piece of shit wakes up and tries to kill me again, chivalry can go fuck itself with the cutting edge of a bastard sword covered in manure from diseased cattle, I will use your scrawny body as a living meat shield.”

“You do realize that, like you, I cannot face death, right?”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t feel pain, now get out of my way! This hefty piece of shit is heavy.”

I acquiesce and he makes his way into the master bedroom of the apartment, muttering expletives and complaints the entire way, but before he crosses the door, I hear some advice.

“Look, if I were you, I’d get rid of the fucking dress. First, cause this place is hell on earth and - take this from a guy that loves his sweaters - you are going to melt into that gaudy thing. Second, because my blood is all over it, and I suspect you don’t want to end up like this moron” he point to Dirk.

Wise advice I would dare say - If I cared to keep him in the loop - which I don’t. 

He vanishes through the door and I make my way back to the front entrance to transport the baggage I had left in there into my old room, so that I could change into something more...urban.

After a fitting myself into proper wear for the new habitat I head for the bathroom. Doubtful that Karkat would go to such an extent as to actually wash my brother out of the bloody mess he dove head first into, which means that I have to do it.

No matter.

There is one last move I need to inform my dear pawn that he needs to execute before we can achieve our goals. What better situation to “drop the bomb” than now, when he is already vulnerable and exhausted?

I understand that, to most people, that might seem contradictory. How could one be more willing to perceive an objective when they are fallen and miserable?

Indeed, it seems a conceivable concern, however, it’s when we’re down, that we have nothing to lose and everything to gain that our power blossoms the prettiest, most perfumed and most enthralling.

I reach the hose, grab his eyewear and spray the blood away from his face. Gelled hair coming down only ever so slightly by the pressure, he already is looking more sober than before.

When his pupils finally start to focus around, I greet him with a snarky smirk.

“Isn’t it funny that I am the one doing this to you, now? I do think this qualifies as irony, at least, with the literal definition of it.”

“Rose? Urrgh. Why is the world so fucking bright?”

He goes to rub his eyes with his hand, but I hose him in the face again. He protects himself by suspending arms and hands, and the pressure takes the blood away.

“There. You can use them now.” I clarify.

He looks down at them and them to the rest of himself.

Dirk is shirtless, white polo thrashed from the fight and the drug vitae. His pants have also been stripped, but those have been set aside, for I know a place that could save them from the fateful day they shall be thrashed as well.

“I’m naked.”

“Semi-nude. I have zero intention of getting to know your preciousness. You, more than anyone knows my preferences are way more...oyster shaped. Or perhaps you could visualize it better if I described it as a mexican taco?”

“You like pussy, i’m not dumb, why the fuck am I naked?”

“You killed Karkat, but he’s alive now, don’t worry, you didn’t ruin my plan or anything. Though you did get your face very comfortable against the ground in which you made him bleed all over. What happened?”

“Motherfucker spit in my face.”

“That...is surprisingly courageous.”

“Nah. He was already impaled by the time he did that. It’s was more a ‘If im gonna have a painful death, so are you’ kinda shebang.”

“Which brings me to the question, how are the deals with the dealers going?”

He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest and crossing his leg.

“Same as always. Got a spot, an hour and the ‘come alone’ thing that no one is ever dumb enough to follow except for me ‘cause i’m worth for four.”

“Wonderful. Now you just have to ruin it.”

“What? No. Rose, I can’t ruin a negotiation like this. They aren’t paying me money, woman!”

“That doesn’t matter. Get the big picture, brother. If Dave doesn’t kill you, it doesn’t matter what they offer.”

“Except if they offered me the same thing.”

I’m taken aback. He never spoke to me about this through text.

“What do you mean by the same thing?”

“They’re offering to send me to hell.”

“How is that possible? They can’t kill you, only Dave can.”

“That’s cause they won’t. When the deal is done, they’ll have something more powerful that can take us there. That can take me there.”

A thing more powerful than our curse? The only thing they wish for is Karkat’s blood, but how could that influence us?

“It’s Karkat” he clarifies under my thoughtful silence.

“I’m aware. I gathered by context. How does that help us?”

“He can take people’s consciousness to the way beyond. They have machines that allow the travels and a team of specialized physicians for if anything goes wrong.”

“It’s not definitive, though. You would have to return.”

“But I could at least do right by you. Also, preparations are already in motion.”

“That never stopped us before, but I know what you mean.”

He stands from the shower and goes back to his room to get fully dressed again. He does it in a flash step, so I wouldn’t be subjected to watch him through it, and by the time I open the door for us to leave and keep an eye on the house gest, said gest has evidence of being snooping around on things he shouldn’t.

In his hand, my brother’s phone rests comfortably, but the way his eyes portray his despair for what is about to come his way almost makes me take pity on him.

Almost.


	32. Karkat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I didn't proof read. If anyone finds any grammar slip-ups, please send me a comment with them. That helps a lot.
> 
> Enjoy =)

I would rather have stayed stuck to the fridge. Why did Rose even pry me off of it if this is what I’m gonna be subjected to?

Murderhappy douchenozzle comes out of his den of puke inducing, self abating ego with Rose walking a little ways in front of him, like a dog owner being followed by his deviant mutt.

He towers over her by a whole head, but her snotty broad poise almost makes her look as intimidating as him.

She did take on my advice and dress weather accordingly, though.

While they were having creepy conversations in the bathroom like they weren’t weird enough without all the brotherly bonding, I didn’t  just lie around and sit on my ass.

My phone was busted coming over. Dirk - I heard her call him that - sliced it in two with the shitty excuse of not letting me get tracked down because, apparently, even Dave could have the wits to pull that simple search off.

Dude, anyone can do that except me, cause if I try, get ready for a bunch of technological rubble to blast right at your pretty face.

God, why didn’t I think of that before???? It would have saved me a whole lot of trouble, actually.

But as I was saying to nobody but the empty space in my head, I didn’t just sit around and wallow in my misery - though I can say with absolute certainty that I’m pretty great at that.

I did some snooping around, cause no matter how I asked - and I even asked nicely! - he wouldn’t tell me what he intended to deliver me to the clowns for.

Now, despite hating him even more for it, I understand why.

They don’t intend to kill me in the flesh and bone.

The Clown Posse is going to use me to feed a STEM system, like the one from The Evil Within.

Fuck, I never thought I’d be glad and sorry for letting Dave convince me to watch someone play that stupid game.

When did they even GET ALL THIS MUCH MONEY???

I killed the fucking Mayor, who was supposed to have been their biggest supporter. Who else could have been financing them??? Is it multiple someones??

I see a shadow at the corner of my eye and then the phone is gone.

“How did you figure my password out?” he asks.

“You’re an idiot and I learned a thing or two about password safety with a friend of mine.”

This idiot put his brother’s birthday as his password, and even someone like me can pinpoint why he would do it. He hates Dave, but loves Rose. The catch: they’re twins, so that number combination is both genuine and ironic.

What an idiot.

“Don’t gloat on your victory too much. It was short lived.”

“Apparently so was your last orgasm, because you sound like you could go GET FUCKED, more often.”

Rose actually starts to snicker and Dirk’s head turns to her so fast that his face blurs until it stops. But even if his face keeps impassive the red of his face betrays him. Why is everybody in this fucking family white as the snow?

“He does sound like and individual that has been spending too much of his time with Dave.” she comments.

“Dave is never that distasteful about his comebacks.”

“Oh, brother. You only say that because the two of you make a point of never showing your anger around each other. Or any other emotion, by that matter.”

“Well, fuck that noise. If I’m going to be sold off to become a power cell to that monstrosity, this douchebag will hear every word I have to say about it until I can’t say anything at all!”

He takes a sushi knife from a nearby knife holder and looks at it, admiring the glinting steel like that thing is not some cheap knock off of some sponsoring brand of Masterchef, sushi edition.

“Maybe I can help you get to that point faster.”

Rose steps in between. A smirk playing on her black lipstick coated mouth.

“As entertaining as this testosterone battle would be, I don’t think any of us really requires such a display of power, even because it’s blatantly obvious that, from all present, I am the most dangerous one.”

I look at her with skepticism. Far from me be the day that I underestimate the power of a person I’ve never faced in battle before, and after that time Kanaya saved my ass with a fucking chainsaw I’m not enough of a fool to not admit that appearances can be deceiving.

But so far she’s just been...diplomatic?

Dirk steps back and makes a gesture that says ‘I surrender’, putting the knife back into the rack and disappearing back into his room. By the time he is gone she takes a seat next to me and I sigh.

I need to think of a plan, because death is an optimal solution if whatever the fuck THAT was is the alternative.

Except that now I can’t die.

Oh GOD why do I always make the worst choices!!!??

“That was acutely ingenious of you.”

“What?”

“Forging a soul link between yourself and my brother. It’s a sound strategy now that I think of it. It does have a loose tie you might have forgotten to take into account when this plan crossed your mind.”

“You mean these?”

I show her the inside of my forearm where Aradia carved the inscription. She traces the patterns with awe smacked right center on her face and her fingers are cold. How is she this cold? And why is the city so fucking hot? This place is basically an oven!

“The person that made these said it was supposed to bond souls in ancient times. They used this shit in ancient egypt so that the life of two people that got married would last exactly the same and they wouldn’t have to live without each other.”

It used to be really fucking romantic. Now it’s… barely even convenient.

“Does that mean you and Dirk got married?”

“FUCK NO! I’D RATHER GULP DOWN THE MANURE STRAIGHT OUT OF A COW’S ASS THAN HAVE ANY KIND OF RELATIONSHIP WITH A GUY LIKE HIM!”

She gives a side smile.

“However the case, you won’t have to worry, I think the sentiment is mutual,” she says looking at his door “but as I was saying, there is one thing you haven’t considered when you performed this ritual.”

There are many of those, but I was kinda desperate for a way to keep being alive or at the very fucking least not die a meaningless death. 

. . .

She doesn’t need to know that, though.

“Oh yeah? And what was that?”

“You haven’t considered that Dirk might die for good.”

“Well, now you’re just spewing nonsense. The guy is immortal or else that OD would’ve taken him straight to his god. And I would have stayed dead.”

“We are not immortal, Karkat. My brother and I are just a very specific kind of hard to kill.” She says with a cunning smile.

Smug bitch.

“Yeah, I did the research. You can only die if your sister? Brother?”

“Brother.”

“Brother kills you. And that douchebag can only die if douche Jr kills him. But that’s not going to happen.”

“What makes you think so? He is very capable.”

“Oh. I know. I’ve seen him vanish and brandish that bulshit broken sword around.” Saved my ass, once “But being good with a weapon doesn’t mean you have to be a murderer.”

“True. But that doesn’t disqualify him as a person that could go to such an extent. Anyone can kill under the right stimulus. Be it a sentimental or a logical one.”

I know that.

The fucking bullshit Vriska pulled will NEVER let me forget that.

I don’t actually have an argument on why I think Dave wouldn’t go through with it. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t yet, even though he had plenty of opportunities. Maybe it’s just because of the simple fact that I don’t see that malice on him. Or that despair.

Maybe it’s because I want to believe he is above all of… whatever the fuck it is that I have gotten myself into and dragged everyone with me to this pit of hell that I magnanimously call ‘a life’.

I think the truth behind it all is that I don’t want to believe that I just changed who would lie on that grave site. Or that I’m just to filthy with my own sins and desperation that I could trigger the change in someone so… nice. So dorky.

“Karkat? Are you still with us?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I was just… thinking of an actual answer that won’t make me sound stupid but you ruined it and now I sound even more stupid. Thanks a lot.”

She gives it a little giggle “Did you come up with something, though?”

I stay quiet for a little longer, thinking on how to phrase it, but you know what? Fuck it.

“Idiocy.”

“Your answer for the question of ‘do you think Dave won’t kill’ is idiocy?”

“You know what? YES. That is my fucking answer. He is a thick headed idiot and I’m a hopeful idiot. The common denominator is idiocy and so that’s what I’m going with. Happy? Idiocy is the answer. Let’s all be idiots and let go of the murder plots, why not? Happy, stupid, blissful idiots, mashing their heads together in utter, stupid glee of being alive! FUCK! I wish it was that simple. Why can’t things ever BE SIMPLE?”

I groan out my frustration and she looks away. A longing in her eyes that I could swear spoke of simpler times that, back then, didn’t seem simple at all, but in comparison to now, must have been the pinnacle of her most blissful years.

“That would be nice.”

She longs for a couple more seconds and then shoots an off topic.

“Did you know that the word idiot means ‘one who is centered only in one’s self’? It comes from the greek. It’s how they would call those that could vote, the ones considered citizens, that would ignore politics. It’s been rebranded with time with the meaning of deprecating one’s intellect, but you have nothing of its original meaning in you, Karkat. I can tell by the way you act that you care about people quite a lot.”

“I care about specific people. That doesn’t make me seminar material or anything circumventing that bullshit. Also, what’s your point? Where did that commentary even come from?”

“I don’t believe you to be an idiot. In neither of the senses. I do believe you’re trying to hold onto something that doesn’t exist anymore. Be it some sense of purity or naivete.”

“It’s called morality. I’m not naive and I sure as fuck don’t believe in purity. The one thing I want to pass 30 feet apart of is religion. The clown posse are a bunch of religious lunatics from a cult that believes me to be their fucking messiah. Pure can meet my gaping asshole. Morality on the other hand is the literal compass for you to do what you believe to be right and fair and who the fuck knows, a friend of mine might even say just.”

“Religion can provide morals. Many actually do. Can you say their morals are wrong?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhh… YES? If your morals tell you that killing people is okay, sorry to break it to you, but you’re fucked up the nogging, asshole! Go check a therapist or a psychologist or something cause you’re psycho!”

“Have you ever seen any of those?”

“My morality doesn’t say it’s okay to kill people. I did it out of self defense. It’s wasn’t morals it was the fucking fight or flight instinct! And since most times I was surrounded what choice did I have?”

“You could choose to die.”

“WELL, NOW I DID! LOOK WHAT GOOD IT DID ME!” I point to the kitchen where she can clearly see the floor and the fridge.

She nodded, acknowledging that it was indeed a bad choice.

“It’s that the outcome you wanted, though?”

“What? To be dead? Better than to play Neo from Matrix and became a battery for whatever the fuck it is that your psycho sibling is intending to sell me for! I’m not one to be afraid of needles but those things were as big as garden hoses, Rose. Whatever the fuck that was, it’s intending to keep me barely alive and in eternal suffering. Would I rather be dead? OF COURSE! My problems would all be solved if I died! No more Clown Posse. Dave wouldn’t have to ever get hurt by that douchebag again. Things between me and Terezi would never be weird again cause I wouldn’t be here and she would finally be free of our deal. If the thing the clown posse says is true, I’m gonna bring the apocalypse, so, if I die, it doesn’t happen!”

In that second, se stops and blinks. When Rose’s eyes open, they glow like car lanterns. Her face looks focused and she moves her head around, as if immersed in a Virtual Reality environment. She looks forward at me, but through me. It’s creepy as fuck.

“Oh, Karkat. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”


	33. Dave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're truly approaching the end now.  
> Will I be able to finish this before the end of the year?  
> Will I be able to finish this before christmas?  
> Will they be able to finish their unresolved sexual tension?  
> Stay tuned.  
> >:]

When I get to the rendezvous point, Karkat is nowhere to be seen.

Bro stands in the middle of the street, alone and tall in a stiff stance. His back is turned to me and he made sure to center himself into the beam of a street light, unsheathed katana in hand.

“Where is him?” I ask in my normal voice tone.

He swivels the sword in his hand, snaps his neck and turns around.

“Far. Securely far.”

“Securely?” I say, drawling the word into a sneer.

“Never specified for whom.”

He shrugs, like it’s not the life of a human being I give a shit about on the other end. Like it’s just business, as usual. Like he didn’t plan to draw me out of my comfort zone, out of my house just to have this fight.

Like he didn’t plan for this shit to happen.

“Last chance I’ll give you. Give Karkat back, and even if he is harmed, and I’ll be really fucking pissed at you if he is, probably never forgive you and think about all the ways I should, could, would end you for the rest of my living days, I will let you walk.”

“What if I told you that, even if I wanted, I couldn’t?”

“Than I’d kill you for selling my best friend off to murder clowns that want to rule the world and then I’d bounce off this shitty street and go rescue him from certain death.”

“Then you would finally grow some and actually try to kill me? Wow. You really are in love with this guy. It’s so pathetic.”

“First off: even if that was true - and I’m not saying it’s not but also, not saying it is - I have had to have balls the entire portion of my life that I had to spend around you. Not only you are homicidal and suicidal - somehow - you also work with killing people. What if some of them found out it was you and came for revenge trying to kill lil’ old me? Like, I know you wouldn’t let them cause you’re a ninja and you needed me to get yourself killed, which meant I had to live, but still could’ve lost a limb or an eye or something!! So you saying I have no guts is just dumb, dude.”

“This is why I always tell you to shut up. You can never be concise about jack shit. I hope that Karkat actually grow some balls himself and ask you out if he ever get out of that machine, cause you would just stall him on it for the rest of his miserable life.”

“What machine?”

“The one he’s gonna be stuck on for the rest of his life - if you even can call that a life.”

“What!? Did I miss something? Did he get paraplegic while I wasn’t watching and now someone is getting an exoskeleton suit for him to walk or something?”

Bro sneers. An ugly sound coming out of his nose.

“Nah. He’d look cool in one of those.”

“Put a pig in one of those and he would look cool.”

It’s true. Anything can look badass in an exoskeleton.

“Are you familiar with The Evil Within?”

“Uh. Duh. Obviously. I live in the woods, not under a rock.”

“The Clown Posse actually built a kind of STEM, but instead of sending people to some crazy place, it sends people to the afterlife. So, now, finally, the Clown Posse can use your boyfriend to meet God, which makes him-”

“The messiah...Wait. They seriously built that???? HOW MUCH MONEY DO THEY HAVE?”

He shrugs.

Wait. He sent Karkat there already?

I can’t stay here, if he’s put inside that machine I’m never getting him back.

I flash-step but Bro is right in front of me the moment I do.

“You’re not getting away from me this time.”

He swings the Katana and I block it. He kicks me in the hip and sends me tumbling backward. I roll from the push and land on my feet, lunging his way with a horizontal slice. He blocks and I punch his face with my free hand, feeling his nose break upon contact.

Bro tumbles back a bit, but keeps his stance. He vanishes and I follow, circling him as he tries to circle me, until we decide that that’s enough with the games.

He vanishes from my sight a couple times trying upper slices from my back like a fucking coward. I block them all and step on his foot, headbutting his nose yet again and punching his cheek with the hilt of my sword. 

I run his way after he regains composure, but he flash steps again and starts to throw shurikens on me. I dodge them, but they start to increase their numbers and I can’t dodge them all.

A couple hit my shoulders, thighs and forearms. A stray one nicks my cheek.

He’s surrounded me. I can’t see his form and without being on the same moving speed my eyes can’t follow.

It’s then that I see the street light pole and remember Karkat using his sickles like a boomerang. My sword can’t come back, but I now have a plan.

Still dodging I throw my sword straight for the pole, right when Bro is almost crossing that path, missing by a second.

He is fooled, because he stops to lecture me.

“You missed. And after all these years of teaching you how to aim right.”

The pole screeches. And falls down on him. Lamp broken and shattered, giving me just enough time to wrench Caledfelwch free. I turn around and look at him before quipping back.

“Who said I was aiming at you?”

I can’t hear properly, but by his mouth motions I think he just said ‘ouch’. And he is definitely in pain by the way he is frowning. Bro swings his sword and cuts the pole that just fell on  top of him in two, shimming out of the debris.

I try to flash-step away, but seconds later he shows up in front of me with a pipe that he cut from the light pole and smacks my shins with it, sending me careening and grating through the pavement.

“You’re not getting away Lil’man. If I have to beat the shit out of you for it.”

Fuck, this actually hurts like a bitch!

He approaches and I force myself to stand as fast as I can. My stance is all wobbly but I glimpse him as he lunges my way, katana at the ready for a piercing strike.

He changes, going for side-slash by the way he is holding it, but if I don’t stop him first, even if I don’t die he is going to incapacitate me and then… and then Karkat is going to-

I-

I can’t let that happen.

I have a second from this stanceless position to take an opening.

Closer… closer… closer…

He slashes and I duck, but his inertia keeps him coming my way and when I see, he’s on top of me and we’re both on the ground.

My hands start to feel warm and sticky where I hold the sword and when I roll his body back to the ground I get why.

His blood is in my hands from where Caledfelwch protrudes from his body, but when I look up the last two people I expect to see make themselves noticeable.

Rose and Karkat.

I don’t understand. 

It’s not like I’m not happy that he’s fine, but why is he with Rose? 

And why does he look so devastated?

And why is Bro not moving at all?

Rose is the first to speak.

“Oh, Dave. What have you done?”

I honestly don’t know. I thought I could just incapacitate him. I can see and hear both, her disappointment and her grief. I don’t know how to explain what just happened, but I try because I also can’t believe.

“Rose, you know how he is! And I didn’t actually want to. I mean, I did, but I wasn’t gonna. This isn’t- He- I-”

“That doesn’t fucking matter” Karkat interjects “you broke your last rule.”

“What? No! Karkat this-”

“HE IS DEAD ISN’T HE?”

I take his shades off to make sure, a little hope that he might just be faking, pretending, playing along to some greater scheme like he always is but... no. 

Bro is truly dead.

I can’t look at Karkat’s face.

This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

I didn’t aim at his heart.

“You have one week to take your shit out of my house. Now, get lost.”

He can’t be serious.

This has to be a joke.

Even Rose looks at him in surprise.

I stand “Please don’t do this. I thought you were dead! This isn’t-”

“What it looks like?” he finishes. Bitterness dribbling from his every word. “THAT DOESN’T MAKE IT RIGHT!”

“You take other people lifes as well. Why are you even mad?”

“BECAUSE I REGRET IT! EVERY LIFE I TOOK HAUNTS ME! EVEN THOSE OF CLOWNS! I THOUGHT I WAS DOING RIGHT BY TAKING YOU OFF THAT DITCH. THAT I WAS SAVING SOMEONE FOR REAL.  BUT NOW YOU’RE JUST LIKE HIM. JUST LIKE ME! AND INSTEAD OF GETTING THAT GRAVE TO BE EMPTY, YOU JUST CHANGED THE BODY THAT’S GOING TO LIE IN IT!”

His eyes start to water and his fists tighten.

“YOU LIED TO ME!” He screams as the tears flow.

The weight of his words hits me like a brick, reminding me of the hospital, reminding me of his smile, bringing back the memories of several of his smiles and forcing me to compare them with the disappointment and betrayal currently on his face.

But I didn’t have a choice.

“If I hadn’t done this, he would have sold you off. You would be dead. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Everyone always has a choice, Dave.” Rose said.

She wasn’t even crying. She knew this was how it happened. She probably mourned his death over and over, over the years and now that it was true, she had already seen it so many times that it hardly mattered.

Karkat face was angry - as usual - but also, something like broken. He cried with a seething rage, but also looked disappointed and sad and-

And I was the one who caused those feelings on him.

I feel something drip from my chin and realize that I’m also crying. 

When did it even start and why can’t I stop?

“Leave Strider. I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

I step closer but hunch low because this is the scariest version of Karkat that I have ever seen.

“Kit-kat, c’mon, you can’t be serious.”

He gives a step forward and punches me in the face. The blow caught me so off guard that I twirl where I stand. My jaw immediately starts to hurt, and I look back to look at his face with a hand on my jaw.

Did this really happen?

I’m so confused.

We stand there looking at each other. Him, waiting for my reaction and I, stunned. I do get out of the stun when he screams.

“LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAVE!”

My eyes water so bad that for the second before the tear drop falls I’m blinded. 

And then, I run.

I run and I don’t look back. 


	34. Dave (Recorded)

“Okay. Uhmm… There’s a dead man in my house and he is my best friend and the only reason he’s here at all is because I stole his dead body from the execution site. Oh yeah. I think you should probably know he got executed. My Brother gave the order and… I’m definitely cutting him from family dinners and christmas cards from now on. *tiny laugh*.

I guess I should probably get a log system going on this, or else I’m gonna get lost as shit *sound of static* but I think I should show you how the house looks. There is where the Tv should stay, but I toted it when they announced that he was taking my blame on a ninja murder scene. My mistake, really. Who leaves his weapon-of-choice behind after a dumb asshole throws himself on top of it? Fucking DUMB mistake. *rapid breathing sound and murmurs*.

…

The computer desk, the couch. Karkat’s there right now. Lounging like a Weekend at Bernies rip off manekin. Wave to the camera Kit-kat! Oh GOD you stink. Urgh. I ordered the fucking cryo-chamber already bro, but they sure as fuck are taking their sweet ass time to deliver it! S’not like people have dead body’s to preserve DELIVERY COMPANIES! OH! Now I totally get you. I totally get why you were so fucking mad at the delivery guy that fateful day. *awkward laugh*.

…

…

I think I’m just… you know… end the transmission.”

**//**

“Okay. So. The delivery finally came and TA DA! A brand new coffin for my best, not-maggot-infested bro. High five.

…

*Self fives* You’re lucky you don’t know what you’re missing.”

**//**

“... I can’t lie to myself about this anymore. I can’t keep going to college. Not for this course anyway. *paper shuffle* What’s the point if the only way I’ll ever see him laugh again is if I go to the cryo-chamber and mess with his face? Can you believe that guy? He doesn’t have a single photo smiling! And I looked everywhere.

…

Anyway. I’m thinking theoretical physics, like Jade. Rose says I need to bond with my college friends more. What does she know, right? She spent her whole life locked in a fucking tower like some twisted kind of the Tangled movie. But I guess her gay is finally breaking the hinges of it’s cage, cause there’s a new girl in her game.”

**//**

“Ooooof. Watching Rose trying to have game is so fucking depressing I’d rather stay here with Kit-kat *laugh*.”

**//**

“*shuffling* Fuck this cable, why can’t you just stay. Stay.

…

*relieved sigh* Fuck yes.

This is weird. I have so many things to say that I don’t even know where to start.

…

Oh! My transference is happening. I think that by the end of the week I’m going to be on the path of knowledge again. Beware rules of the world, Striders have the bad habit of breaking everything they touch.

…

Look, I don’t mean you, okay, dude? For a dead guy, you’re very fucking whole.

…

Har, har, har. Yeah, I know you’ve been blown full of holes. That’s not even a decent joke. Oh, god, I’m speaking with a dead man. What has my life come to?

…

Fuck you. You know you didn’t need to take the blame for me. They wouldn’t kill me or put me in the Asylum, that shit’s been demolished into such fine powder that the cal from the construction was attracting crack-heads. Also, the Striderian ways of my people would have taken care of the incident.

…

Yep. Gone like the wind. Honestly what do you think we did to his body? We fed it to the whales! Took it to take a spin in the good ol’ Ganges if you get what I mean. Funny to think that’s most likely the only time Bro could have had the experience of getting his head wet, if you know what I mean *glass taps*.

…

Me? Gross? Dude, you’re the one who’s stank could expel all the cats and dogs out of a closed room *laughs*.”

**//**

“I am deeply grossed out. Let’s start by stating that. Rose just came back from a date in which she totally scored and while I’m a proud twin I still think she could have spared me the lengthy and detailed description of how her girl’s thighs were as soft as whatever. Like’ seriously girl, have a chill pill. Bro was a literal murder hooker and I still knew less about his sex life then than I know about yours now. Urgh.

You would stand behind me on that one, right Kit-kat? 

Actually, knowing his book collection and the way Rose describes shit, I don’t think he would. Whatever. At least if that was the case I could throw you in front of that bus and have her stop harassing my ass to start harassing yours instead. Though, by the way she was describing her lady I seriously doubt it.

Aaaaah, why can’t I take this shit of my head?!

You know what, I’ll just watch something so disturbing that I’ll forget about it. Where did I leave that gay porno tape with a really bad title that I ironically bought on one of those garage stores. Aha! Here it is. Why did that guy even have this? And, honestly, what could go through someone’s head to make a porno with the title Con Ass?

Oh shit. This is a Con Air parody. *Giggling* That movie’s already a joke but I can’t watch this shit. I won’t be able to stop thinking about how I wanted John to watch it with me, and that is gay as shit cause this is gay as shit.

I can’t watch this. Burn it. Burn it with fire. What was I thinking when I got this? Where did I put the matches?”

**//**

“I couldn’t stop the irony train. It was stronger than me. And who gives a shit? I’m swimming in century old dogh, I can buy whatever the fuck I want. And since Karkat is dead as a dodo and preserved as an egyptian queen he can be my partner in crime. And just to tease him, I got all the best products he could ever hope to watch.

Seriously, though, whoever comes up with these names is a genius I’d like to work with if I was still trying for cinema. Physics is pretty cool and it gives you a sense of wonder when you finally find out how things work and how to manipulate them, but it’s not nearly as dope as what I brough.

Check these titles out: You’ve got Male, I think you would like this one, the call back is too clear cut for you to miss a reference this obvious, even if you’re dead. Sorest Rump (laughter) so great! Legally Boned because you sure are fond of your chick flicks and just cause I need some fun too, I got School of Cock.

…

I am so lucky you’re not alive right now (snicker).”

**//**

“LAST ONE! I PROMISE. I NEED THIS MAN. (makes throat adjustments) Gaylord of the cockrings: the fellowship of the cringe ( Bust in a bout of laughter)”

**//**

“Rose, what the fuck are you doing with the camera?”

“Just recording your expression.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I know you’ve been watching porn movies with the corpse when you have a spare time.”

“...*mouth agape*...no?”

**//**

“I don’t even know what log is this anymore and it really doesn’t matter. I’m just saying that I’m changing the camera place. What the fuck was Rose doing with my Log Dates? Thank god I didn’t go for the weird body shot thing. If Rose saw me naked I’d be mortified. I hope she never figures out my phone password.

Oh yeah, I forgot to update you. You’re probably wondering why I would take body shots. So… Jade and I are going out. She asked me out. *awkward laugh* And I said yes because - and I’ll deny that till I die - Rose was right. I am spending too much time with… too much time with Karkat.*sigh*. And since we are going out stakes are kinda high cause we’ve been friends since middle school, so I’m trynna up my sexy game. GOD I must have even less game than Rose.

THERE. I said it.

...

I really am going to have to hide this camera.”

**//**

“Great date! Best Date! Way better than the last one I went. We hit the movies and settled in a action movie with lots of cops and stunts and guns and a subpar love story that was there just so people like Karkat wouldn’t drown in their own drool. And that was it? *sigh* I chickened out of kissing her *slap sound* I can’t fucking believe I chickened out of kissing her.”

**//**

“We went on another date and I manned the fuck up and kissed her. She got so red on the face that I could feel the warmth emanating from them and her smile was so large and bright that… It made me remember his smile for a second. *sob* I feel- *sob* I feel like…. like I’m starting to forget it already and… *cry* and I don’t want to forget it *loud cry*”

**//**

“Let’s all forget I cried in the last Log like a newborn baby, okay? Nothing happened! I’m fine. Rose won’t watch this ever again, hopefully, but whoever decides that these Logs are worth their time, chill person, I don’t need a shrink or anything like that. And since we’re in the mood for forgetting things, I’m preentively warning I’ll be forgetting to update this thing. Okay? Okay. Fare well!”

**//**

“..........................................................................................I……………...……..I haven’t updated in a long time. This is a good place to vent and before, I was just mourning really heavily, but now……..I don’t know.

So, I guess you need some context. Here’s the thing: Jade and I became a serious thing over the last year and...ahm…… she made it very clear that she want’s me to merry her and……………………..like, have a family?

Shit’s serious for realz and over heals and…… I don’t know? Should I wait? Should I propose?

I like her. Really like her. And she’s such a great person, such a strong, worthy, determined person! I want her to be happy, I really do, but I’m thinking this shit is still too soon, ya know? A year dating before proposing sound like…….sounds like underheating a cake, know what I mean?

I have known her since forever, though. Middle school was a loooooong time ago and she still is the same badass I always pegged her to be…… I meant tagged!!!! I totally meant tagged, my tongue just got twisted there for a moment.

……………...the fact is *sigh* I don’t know what to do………………...I think we are still kind of………..young, you know? But she just seems super into the idea. She speaks about it like we’re going to go to the closest pet store to adopt a stinky-ass puppy that will love us with this unrestrained glory but i feel like, in the end, he’s just gonna be a grumpy dog that will shit and destroy everything i put hard effort into buying and I won’t even be able to scream at him cause he would get a single word I said and...it’s not even the dog’s fault at all.

…

I could pay for it, though…

(Several minutes of breathing sounds)”


	35. Dave (Recorded)

“Log date I don’t give a shit, but since this is a thing that’s been going on for quite a while, I wouldn’t put it past me to find out this is log date 100 or 132 or whatever. Maybe a little less, actually, i’m thinking log date 98 or 95.

Anyway, I have this awesome paper to deliver soon about the possibilities of space travel in instants. Jade actually convinced me to help her study this. Since I got on her graduation a year later she already has a lot of stuff covered, but the subject is dope as shit and i proud myself at knowing that i helped her find some stuff she didn’t know about it.

In true it was no biggie. S’ not like I lost several hours of sleep or drank over 3 packages of Rose’s expensive and pretty damn disappointing coffee to keep focus on a dissertation with over 500 source materials about so many conflicting theories that i wish i had met every motherfucker to punch them in the face and just tell them to agree on SOMETHING! ANYTHING!

Whatever.

Is that how you always felt, Kit-kat? Unable to get any shuteye because of some crippling obsession? Well, at least your obsession wasn’t physics. From the amount of time you stuck in front of Netflix, I dare say it was the fucking romcoms. Nah, it sure as fuck was romcoms.

Also, dude, I miss your coffee. What did you put on it? Was it looooove? Dufus. I will figure your secret someday, and then I shall rebrand it and sell it to the world under my name MWAHAHAHA. *actual laughter*.”

 

**//**

 

“Soooooooo it turns out that Jade wants to take that dissertation and make it into her PHD thesis……………………………………………………..Honestly what can I say except for………...I want in? I know this is hardly how this works but i did shed some tears over that paper as well so i might as well call it my baby and go all the way for it, but i don’t know if she’d be okay with that……………………….I really want in though! The subject of traveling through space in almost no time is both a disturbance in the concept of linearity as it is a break of the laws of matter! How could someone not get a fucking hard on with the prospect of being able to just show up with flip flops in your favorite bagel shop, grab whatever you want and in the snap *snap sound* of a finger show up to your room before your wife can tell you were sneaking out to fatten yourself up like a pig?

Cool. Now i totally don’t want bagles…..*shuffling sound* *door opening sound*...........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................Oh shit I forgot to turn the thing off!”

 

**//**

 

“Breakthrough bitcheeeees. Me and Jade are working together on that theory now and I should probably show you the new sick lab me and my girlfriend are going to be spending soooo much time together in.

Okay, so, the place is pretty big. This is the working table, there are some machines there in that corner, there’s a place in college that we can ask for wood work if we need frames for anything, back there beyond the closed door there’s…..the bathroom. Makes sense. Back from where we came there’s the elevator and the guys that are funding us have a partnership with a very dope junk yard if we need parts to build stuff. There’s the computers. We’re really gonna need these babes and their processing power for the kind of insane calculus me and Jade are about to be doing.

We are gonna have some mad pizza parties on top of the work table. It’s so big and shiny! heh. That’s what she said. Anyway, it’s kinda comfortable in here. I wonder if Jade is gonna want to tango in this place, cause the amount of time we’re gonna spend in here is gonna be barely human.

With all that said I will have to bring Karkat out of my room. I can’t take my eyes off him. What if one of the clowns emerges from the ashes and tries to desacrete his body or something while I’m not home.

I’m not making the same mistake twice. That’s dumb people shit. Now, where should I put it and what should I tell Jade, cause, urgh, that’s gonna be a weird and tiresome conversation to have.”

 

**//**

 

“*Several huffs* No one has to know *sniff* no one was to know he exists…….It’s probably for the best *knock knock* this is the single door in here and im sure me and Jade are gonna be way more efficient with less bathroom breaks anyway. You agree with me don’t you Kit-kat *thud thud* of course you do. You loooove me.”

 

**//**

 

“It’s been three months since we started the research and though we have had some kick ass breakthroughs our higher-ups are not really happy with us…...yet. I’m actually afraid me and Jade are verging on a territory that could be described as taken straight out of science fiction. Not bad scared like if i think aliens are real and assholes like the ones from War of the Worlds from H.G.Wells - though i totally think they exist and just never really had nothing to talk to us about. That disk that got sent to space with Earth’s coordinates must have been found by now if alien life exists, but we sent them our postal with no subjects in it for us to even discuss, though i guess it would be hard to figure out what to talk about with an alien. We wouldn’t even know if they capture stimuli like we do! Do they have eyes? Ears? Hands? Tentacles? Paws? A nose? Mouth or mouths? It would be kinda hard to keep interesting conversation with a gigantic bacteria if it ever came to that ………………...…………………………………………………………..………………………………………..right, i had a point somewhere along that train of thought. Or so would Rose say. Some complicated quantum physics math got bounced around and the walls are starting to look like we are mad scientists already…………...On another note, i totally aced the bathroom break theory.”

 

**//**

 

“I should probably start counting this kind of shit down at some point. I have over 200 of them now confirmed and whenever i need slash want to rewatch something my life becomes a nightmare. Or maybe I should just start saying the date that the recording was made. That way, I can time my progress….I hope. So this is Log Date 05.22.2018 and the theories that we’ve assorted from the bunch of them are finally making some hands on progress. the fucked up thing is that our equipment is so fucking ancient that half our experimentations so far have an margin of error bigger than my fucking dick - which is saying something. I’m not absolutely sure, but if things stop getting in the way and we calibrate the machines better we might just finish this in another 3 to 5 months. We are gonna need a machine specialist to do that, though, and i don’t like idea of having someone else in this place. Me, Kitkat and Jade are already more than enough to crowd this tiny ass lab.”

 

**//**

 

“Log Date 11.09.2018 - the theory is working just fine and the numbers run as smooth as ever. Next year is gonna be the year of Dave up in this bitch! God, i can’t believe i’m gonna have to go through all these motions again but doing something completely different all together. Oooooor………..I mean, i could take this theory to the next step and write a paper on the next best thing (which is obviously time travel). Maybe they won’t look at me skeptically and laugh at my face but even if they do, fuck them. Yeah. Next year is gonna be awesome.”

 

**//**

 

“Log Date 01.10.2019 - they actually didn’t laugh at my face. It was even more mortifying, somehow? And gross and hilarious? I don’t know how they do it, okay? It just happened. There was this guy who was green and then i up and said what i wanted to do and they said ‘hey, jerry is already doing it. check him uneat a bagel’ and then the guy fled to the closest trash can and unate the bagel, which is to say he emptied his stomach hole. It was seriously gross but hey, at least we were all laughing about Jerry and not at me.”

 

**//**

 

“Log Date 01.20.2019 - i give up trying to do something cool for those guys. They are all assholes that don’t see the potential of my searches *coffee slurp* urgh. This shit is so awful, and that is the tenth different coffee I’ve tried this week. Ever since that wonderful hole on the wall that Kit-kat loved so much closed, i haven’t been able to take a decent cup of coffee to keep me awake *yawn* for all the mad money of my centuries old ninja family…………………………………...fuck i miss his coffee.”

 

**//**

 

“Log Date 01.21.2019 - fuck it, my paper will be about potatoes and energy cause apparently that seems more relevant to Jerry and his Merry band assholes than studying the possibilities of time travel. I won’t ever let it get to me cause he’s an asshole and Jade, the most brilliant woman i fucking know, said that i’m smart enough to figure it out. Who the fuck needs Jerry anyway? I’ll just fish some greater bass out of the sea when the right time comes. Really……..fuck Jerry.”


	36. Dave (Recorded)

“Log Date 05.09.2019 - turns out that i can totally use the energy thing to fuel my research with Jade. Obviously not from potatoes, but they did give me ideas. To make a machine that can help us bend space we will need an absurd amount of energy and the potato thing had me thinking…………...it needs to be renewable and powerful and the cycle of renewability need to be short, fast. Even if i flash-stepped a wheel like a human hamster it still wouldn’t be enough…...let’s ignore the fact that i did that just to test and the momentum almost made my back break after slingshotting me across the room. If me and Jade can either make or find a source to do that, we could be the pioneers of instant space travel technology. And from that it wouldn’t be much further to time travel because that is basic time travel in itself. from that, i would just have to figure out how to reverse. keep the place the same while only the time changed…………...never thought i would say that, but wish Bro was here. The fucker would be hands deep on a junkyard thinking about how to make that power source. He loved a technical challenge from what i remember of him and Roxy fighting for the plutonium ingot……….OF COURSE HOW DIDN’T I, OF ALL PEOPLE, DIDN’T THINK OF THE FUCKING PLUTONIUM INGOT! *breathy ragged laughter*”

**//**

“.....................................................Jade is pregnant……………………………. how did this happen? *ragged breaths* oh my god. What if they are twins? What if they are the continuation of my family's curse? What if they look exactly like Bro and Rox? How the fuck are we going to provide for them? How did this happen? We never did it unprotected………………..unless………………….nah, Jade is a sweet person, she’d never do something so skeevy as sabotage me into getting her pregnant to guilt trip me into proposing, that’s the kind of shit Bro would pull if he had been raised in skirts instead of pants. Deceiving and treacherous. Jade….wouldn’t….right?”

**//**

“.................................................................................................I…...I found something on Bro’s room today………………………..actually two things *sounds of clinking metal*............This is Caledfewlch but, whole. And this is an exact copy of Bro’s katana……………………………...I found them when I was rearranging the room and took all of Bro’s clothes out of his closet……….in the end of the closet there was a secret hatchet and when i opened it………………..well, suddenly years of having to dodge fridge swords made a lot more sense…………….but if these are the originals………...everything is wrong. I….. feel it’s wrongness. It’s just...crooked, like paintings. It’s the same painting you’ve always seen but the fact that it’s crooked makes everything else in the immediate vicinity look just as wrong.

…

Did Bro know about this?”

**//**

“Log Date 11.11.2019 - I delivered the paper and they actually liked it. There’s this guy that saw the paper I did with Jade and together with the one I just delivered, they want to fund us to try and create a space travel machine.  SUCK IT JERRY!”

**//**

“*sounds of microphone bumps* i think this is the best place to leave it *footstep sounds* okay. this is far enough. *more footstep sounds* ................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

“Dave, what are you doing? I need to finish setting the plutonium on the generator.”

“i’ll help you with that after this is done”

“Dave…………..uhhhh………. why are you crouching?”

“Jade *hard innard inhale* would you like to make this happen with me? *click*”

“............ AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! YEEEEEES! I WILL TOTALLY MAKE THIS HAPPEN!”

“ooooooooooof. okay, please stop. Jade….uuuuhrgh.....Jadeican’tbreathe.”

“Upsies! Sorry.”

**//**

“Log Date 01.02.2020 - Jade can’t fucking keep it in her panties. She’s so excited about the whole party that all the notes that should be about the enrichment or the plutonium ingot have side-notes and mini-drawings of dresses, cakes and the whatnots of the ceremony. i can barely make way of the notes *ashamed laugh*. i do think she might have found some method of doing it though. i’ll try to execute it to see if it increases the rotations per second of the quantum generator. i’ll not get you bored with the numbers, just know we need an unholy number rotations.”

**//**

“Log Date 01.02.2020 - yes. its still the same day. the generator achieved the requirements, but the rotator didnt hold its shit together *whraaaaaaaap* but if i learned a thing in this line of work is that theres nothing a good wrapping of silver tape doesnt fix!”

**//**

“Sup. No Log Dates today just complainy mood and since thats the mood my best bro is here with me. Say hey to the camera Kit-kat *thump thump*. its so weird looking at you and realizing you havent aged a single day. you look exacly like youve always looked and, not to sound too gay, except for the bullet holes youre looking damn fine, man. so... relationship advice has always kinda been your thing, right? yeah. i think ive told you this before but, like, Jade is pregnant and now im damn sure. 

also… its twins *ragged breath*.

*thump thump thump* IM FREAKING OUT HERE, MAN! ITS A BOY AND A GIRL! ITS THE CURSE ALL OVER! I CANT- I FUCKING CANT! I CANT EVEN CARE ABOUT MY OWN ASS! FUCK! THIS IS WHY THIS HAPPENED IN THE FIRST PLACE! im such an idiot and no one else knows. Rose probably knows but i cant talk about this with her.....dont want to. shes gonna judge the ever living shit out of me and im already doing that well enough on my own. i cant talk to John and the idea of having to tell Jade makes me want to puke. i think id rather tell her about you, my bathroom secret, than this. at least youre showable and she wont think im making it up out of some fatherly insecurity. not that those are not a thing. you never met my dad and youve met dirk. i think that you can imagine its literally impossible for me to ever do any type of good or... fuck, at least decent parenting, much less if your children have a curse that makes them evil AND powerful *desperate crying sounds*

*very desperate crying sounds*

AND IM ON A TEACHERS FUCKING SALARY! *desperate scream*”

**//**

“....i had totally forgot that i was swimming in century old dogh. this is what this is doing to me Karkat! i can barely think straight… fuck. I need a plan. you always had a plan. no matter the problem, the adversity or the fuck up you always had a plan. cant you like rub that off on me or something? or, i dont know, send a plan my way or something? Please? Pretty please? Fucked up please? Plain please? *sigh*.............. *sound of clattering*........... *sound of static* what the fuck was that? *door sounds*”

“uhm… hello? oh! Dr. Strider!”

“this shit yours?”

“y-yes. it flew out of my hand. i’m so sorry!”

“who the fuck lets a sword fly out of their hand??”

“my sparring partner disarmed me…”

“how were you holding it?”

“something like…..this?”

“no shit he disarmed you. youre holding that like a pen at a bar after the tenth beer. shits looser than my morals. grip it like its your diploma and youve been on college for 10 years.”

*rubber gripping sound*

“now go avenge my window”

“Yes, Dr. Strider! *running on glass sounds*”

“.......................what the fuck did i do that for?”

**//**

“Hey, Dave! What are you doing out here all alone, man? Everyone is looking for the man of the hour! C’mon, there’s this stray tray of -”

“John... do you ever think theres something wrong with you? i mean, not you specifically, youre dope man, youre awesome, youre touts in the clear for any wrongdoings of fate or serendipity or whatever it is that you believe that shapes reality into this fucked up isle of self-doubt, cold-feet and pussying out of responsibilities until they blow up in your face and you have no idea how to manage them cause youre too useless to manage your own life, whod say the lifes of other people and it all just gets so much more derangenged when you look at history and only see murder and gore and discredit and-”

“Dave, are you and Jade pregnant?!?!?!?!?!?!?”

“................................dude you completely ran off topic with that one. thats not what i was trying to ask and-”

“Hohoho you guys totally are! Have you decided on a name yet? Is it a boy or a girl? Please say you’re not going to paint a room on yellow if you don’t know yet. Just paint it light green if it goes that way.”

“shhhhhhhhhhhhhh! shut up! no one can know that yet.”

“Don’t worry. Who would I even tell that to?”

*static sounds* “I truly do wonder what could make boys be such buffoons as to have private conversations in hearing range of general audiences and forget personal belongings of such relevance just, laying around *tiny laugh* this is going to be an interesting conversation to have whenever it happens.”

**//**

“...............my life is over. Rose knows……….this is going to be nightmarish to explain and, oh fuck, what if she beats me to the punch and tells Jade of the curse! i barely married and im already freaking about a divorce. but maybe, juuuust maybe theres a chance that they are not cursed. theres a chance. they probably are but there is a chance and if they arent, but what if they are, fuck! fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”

**//**

“*chair screech* okay so, Rose promised me she wouldnt tell Jade about the whole curse thing which, dont get me wrong, gets me all kinds of relieved to the fucking seventh heaven and what not but, what she said after that was cryptic as shit. She said I wouldnt have to worry about her saying it cause i wouldnt have to tell her myself. now, from experience, that can only mean two things: they arent cursed and she knows that cause of seer shit or - and this is the one that gives me the creeps - Jade aint having them at all.

…..the worst is….i dont know which outcome i like best.

And yes, i know that makes me sound like a raging asshole cause id be rooting for the death of babies but…..i just….im not cut out for this shit! i got fucking raised by serial killer ninjas who threw me my pacifier like it was shurikens and forgot to feed me for weeks on end thinking itd be good exercise to built up my character. i genuinely think the first hug i ever got was from Karkat back when Vriska tried to burn my beautiful face off of my facial bones. im incapable of saying the words i love you if outside of a joke or an ironic set up! i never had a love life because i was scared shitless that my brother would use that to hold me hostage to his will in worse ways than he already did, so its not like if one of them came to me to ask for advice id do them any good. and this is me complaining only about the things that would put me straight on the bad parenting bin.

What if…..what if genuinely cant love them?

What if i look at their faces and instead of wanting to be better i just...dont feel anything at all?

What if i dont love them?”


	37. Dave (Recorded)

“Log Date 03.18.2020 - Look at this babe! Finally we have something to show our investors for sure. This hunkajunk you see can disassemble inorganic things that we place on top of it and teleport it to its matching pad on the other side of the room! For instance, now imma place this apple - yes, original as fuck, dont sue me god - and *sounds of static* just wait a sec…. *cruching sounds* what?”

“Wait. This was yours?”

“C’mon, Jade, theres them freshest apples on the damn fridge, why did you have to grab the one motherfucker i chose to make the pads demo?”

“You’ve been recording our progress??”

“.........something like that…….?”

“Can I see?”

“NO!”

“!!!!!”

“S-sorry. It’s just that this has more than just our findings. This is my family’s camera. Well, my Bro’s more specifically.”

“Oh”

“He wasnt a nice guy but…. i dont want to forget him.”

“I think I remember something about him from tv. He was a pornstar wasn’t he?”

“*sigh* i guess???? i try not to think too much of it.”

“Wait. Pornstar Strider. Wasn’t he the guy that got brutally murdered by that psycho that the SCPD was trailing for more than 5 years? *finger snapping sounds* The one that blew up the Asylum and murdered Mayor Makara and was committing mass genocide over the Clown Posse believers and had a weird blood condition that made people around him go crazy….. I think his name was Karkat Vantas….. like that guy you introduced to me and John once.”

“!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“But it couldn’t have been the same guy. Your friend smelled small and fluffy, even if he was sick. Now that I think about it, he smelled much like a friend of mine that would help me once a month.”

“uhhhh...girl stuff?”

“Lycanthrope stuff.”

“.........wait…….WHAT?”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s not like I’m going to shed my fur on our bed or eat you when a full moon rises. It only manifest when I’m very angry or when I want it to.”

“And you decided to tell me that only after we got married?”

“I mean, you’re always so chill about everything so I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it because I thought you wouldn’t want me to make a big deal out of it.

“...................................right……………………….so……..just to be clear, we’re on a basis of not making a big deal out of……...stuff.”

“I mean, It’s been like that from the beginning, right?”

“*footsteps” okay then. not making a big deal out of stuff *keychain rattling*. so thats our thing *key turning on lock*.”

“Dave, that closet is broken, why are you opening it?”

“It’s not a closet. It’s a bathroom. And……..its broken cause i broke it, and i broke it to fit him inside *door sound*.”

“..........................................what the fuck…………”

“you said it. youuuuuu said it yourself that we dont make big deals out of stuff. that was you………………….. also, meet Karkat Vantas.”

“oh my god. they’re all the same person.”

“.............uhhhhhhhh”

“Your host, my full moon friend and the Skaian psycho. They’re all the same person!!! I knew your host and my friend were the same person because they smelled the same but….. he didn’t recognize me out of wolf form. I didn’t know how close the two of you really were back then so I didn’t want to risk the exposure... That must have been why the guards came for him, though……….”

“.......”

“Must have been rough, have your friend kill your family.”

“That wasn’t… exactly... what happened……………….the midia lied big time on that one………….i think you should grab a seat……..this exposition is about to get way weirder…………… and i toooooootaly lost the track of this Log Date.”

 

**//**

 

“.......................................*inhale* Log Date 06.20.2020 - ……………...we managed to make a warp window that can teleport living mass across space……..and even then…….im still the idiot whos stuck across the city, too shaken to show up and be there when she needs me *thump* Karkat, dude, bro, change with me. i should be the one who shouldve been shot dead 17 or more times. Jade wouldnt even be surprised. fuck. anyone wouldve been lucky to have your ass to husband them around. you, who used to be the one that always kept things neat, who always kept the fridge full, who always made sure no one was sick or hurting, who always came up with the most twisted and undoable plans that somehow worked and solved shit, who until the very last moment……………………………………………………….. was always…………...there………………………………………………………………………………...……………..what am i doing here?”

 

**//**

 

“... (fuck, they are adorable…

they came out of her??...

i helped make them…

dude, thats such a weird thought to have about anything…

they are so chubby!…

oh fuck… what do babies eat???)”


	38. Dave (Recorded)

“DAD! LOOK!”

“...what the fuck are the two of you doing with my work camera?”

“we made our own log date videos like- like you do…”

“YEAH! BAIZLI AND I UPGRADED THE INTERDIMENSIONAL WINDOW THAT MOM CREATED WITH THE MATTER DISLOCATER AND DID SOME JIGMAJIGS-”

“i did those-”

“AND NOW WE CAN SEND A BODY PART TOOOOO-”

“ThE fUtUrE!”

“yeah-”

“CHECK THIS OUT!”

“ WHAT? NO! *whooshing sound*”

“DaD!”

“First of, the two of you are grounded for literal breaking and entering. I could send your little asses to kids jail for it.”

“!!!”

“I know for a fact that the lab door was closed. i never leave it open.”

“BAIZLI DID IT!”

“barzum, that’s low. you helped me!”

“none of you was supposed to have done it and if you helped in any way youre a criminal asset (fuck i sound like Terezi) so both your assess are bust. Im cutting your netflix accounts.”

“NO!”

“...”

“what? nothing to say?”

“one thing. was it fun to spend father’s day alone?”

“...father’s day?”

“YOU DIDN’T SHOW UP! YOU HAVEN’T SHOWN UP IN A WEEK! MOM SAID YOU WERE SLAVING OVER, WORKING YOUR ASS OFF, SO WE THOUGHT : IF WE CAN MAKE SOMETHING SO AMAZING IT COULD IMPRESS DAD’S BOSS YOU COULD COME HOME WITH US!”

“but we literally figured a way of sending things to the immediate future and you still want to cut us off like the rotten part of a tomato.”

“*sigh* this is not about me wanting to cut you off. this place is dangerous to grown ass adults. if any of you is hurt ill never forgive myself. i have my fair share of scars to know you two shouldnt be in here. not only you dont know what half these things do, even if you did, you could still misuse them. and then not only my lifes work would be ruined, the two most important people in my life would be badly hurt.”

“AW.”

“that doesn’t excuse you from not showing up at school during father’s day.”

“SHE’S RIGHT! WE LOOKED PATHETIC! MY FRIENDS ARE STARTING TO DOUBT YOU EVEN EXIST!”

“we know you’re trying to make a time machine which would be a big step for humanity, but if we’re the two most important people of your life you shouldn’t act like that’s someone at your work that you’re getting frisky with behind mom’s back.”

“imma ignore you just implied i cheat on your mom because i know how deprecating motor-mouthing can get and i sympathize with the struggle but also she wasnt wrong. i kinda am stuck until i can figure out a way to reverse the timey-whimey-thing.”

“WHAT? WHY?”

“because by the beggining of the week an apple fell from the ceiling but, unlike the one im using now, that one was bitten. i need to figure out how to send things to that time frame and the further it gets the more power imma need to do it. if it just goes on forever ill need the electricity from the entire building to send that apple back in time.”

“just reverse the polarity of the magnet we attached with silver tape between the interdimensional window and the matter dislocater. if the magnetic field they have currently sends things forward in time * blop of the apple going through the window * *sound of the apple falling on the ground 15 second later* the opposite current is gonna send them back. *sound of another apple falling on the ground*”

“HEY, GUYS, THIS ONE’S BITTEN!”

“...WHO WANTS TO GO TO LASER TAG!?”

"WoHo!!"

 

**//**

 

"Log Date 06.30.2027 - My kids are geniuses and am a total idiot, but then again, what else is news. the prototype they cooked works perfectly and im on my way to just make it pretty to present at the investors whenever they set a date. I'm also pretty tempted to reverse the way this thing works. make it so that, instead of sending a body through space slash time through a wormhole window they can zap themselves through the place. that way the user of the device wouldn't have to carry a portal with themselves for the off case of an emergency in which they'd have to return to their previous space or their original timeline…

…

How the fuck does one do that anyway?"

 

**//**

 

“Log Date 11.12.2027 - The investors are already mass producing the timei-whimey-thing, and yes, im actually calling it that and the kids totally approve. Jade got to have her moment calling things by names that fucking Doofenshmirtz would give his villainous stamp of approval but now its the time of the doctor...Strider, not who. thats my title. im a doctor, but obviously not the kind that can perform surgery unless its surgery in the space-time-continuum. well, i guess that kinda puts me in the same kind of category as Doc Who but i dont regen when my time comes. s not like imma get a brand new kickass bod after i manage to thrust myself across the time-space-continuum and die a horrible death that Kit-kat always predicted id have when no one was looking...which was never cause he was always being watched even if he managed to never be found. *gasp of surprise* Karkat was the truest ninja. the best spy.

…

ya know what. no he wasnt. he was crappy as shit to stay inconspicuous with all his loud incessant captivating bitching. that is partially what got him killed but also, his dumb as a manure truck plan to take my place but….welp. now hes dead and what i think doesnt matter cause ill never be able to tell it to his face.

…

at least now ill be stinky rich. gonna make my fist million, suckaaas. not that i needed to be making more mad greens or that thats some kind of halfassed consolation prize but now i wont need to leech the century old money pool of my ancestral crazy-murder parents... tastes like freedom (holy fuck i have been spending too much time with Tz).”


	39. Dave (Recorded)

“Log Date 02.14.2028 - Ive started to mess with the potency of the timey-whimey-thing recently. you know what, the names so big i think imma just call it timmy. so, like, timmy is actually plutonium based. we managed to make that his decayment ran in such a tiny space that the atoms in the thing just kept bumping into each other because plutonium hates being itself, it hates it so much that it makes a conscious effort to try and be something else by expelling particles from its middle, but the space is so tiny the particles kept bumping into each other, and in that state of chaos when the particles are all getting up in each others grills its when it produces its biggest energy spikes and manages to get the quantum-generator to run.

…

yeah, i know that everything i said sounds pretty obvious to anyone whos been listening to me for the previous 10 years, dont get your panties in a twist just yet. the fact is, the greatest the jump a thing would have to do, the greater the energy we d need to make that shit happen and the plutonium already hates itself enough. this is one of those types of scenarios that the chick you like is already up the hills and far away with a twisted image of who you are and, trust me, that bitch aint coming down the high that imaginary you gives her. except that eventually, some day in the far off future the high of imaginary you aint gonna hold her kite up high anymore, and when she comes for the real deal youre gonna be just….a guy. youre gonna be no more special then the joe from three rolls down.

welp.

plutonium is preeety much the same.

it loses its charm.

the hating-yourself-thing is cute as long as it resupplies the machinery with energy, but even plutonium gets tired of hating itself.

and then, ma friend, weve got ourselves not one but two problems.

the plutonium is gonna have to be substituted and that is expensive AS FUCK! way more than our investors are willing to pay. they didnt even get the plutonium on the things theyre mass producing. we, in the lab, can send things up to days in the past and people out there can only send things minutes either forwards of backwards. 

my fucking kids cant get access to the machinery cause the higher ups are all like “they are kids and this is radioactive, theyre gonna have cerebral cancer or something” like they even know what the fuck ‘radioactive’ means. like, sure, it can cause cancer, but so can the fucking SUN!

i grew up around these things, so did Jade and my kids are fucking geniuses. i could make a bet with Vriska, cause im that sure i would win, that my kids have better comprehension of the harms that plutonium could cause them than those fuckers. and also how to handle the thing.

anyway… i was building up to something before i got derailed…

oh yeah. plutoniums expensive and im pretty fucking certain we have the capability to send things to way back in time. im talking about years. decades! we could go all Ray Bradbury up in this bitch and start profiting on time travel trips to the paleolithic! imagine what anthropologists or paleontologists wouldnt pay to get to send a set of pretty eyes to a dinossaur!

to do that, though, we d need some serious energy input. 

im talking about enrichment of the plutonium we have or the creation of some otherwordly kind of energy sour- *sound of a portal opening and some weird thing falling with a thud on the ground* what the-....

why the fuck is the plutonium ingot Mr. Manhattan blue??

…oooooh.”

 

**//**

 

“Log Date 10.02.2029 - I can officially warp anywhere in the world as long as I can pinpoint its geographical coordinates. Jade helped me reverse-engineer the matter dislocator and now we dont need two pads, just the coordinates and you can input those in this phone-like-device and then *ZZZHIUM* bam, bitches.

 

you can also change the modus and then you have the timmy functionalities. and if you want to send things through space and time you just have to change the modus again, type the coordinates or tap on the ‘your friends’ list and set to how many minutes back you wish this had arrived.

 

(pizzarias all over the world are going crazy over this shit cause you have to be a crazy late idiot to actually miss a delivery with this god-shitting-apparatus)

 

you know what this is reminding me? the remote from click.

 

holy fuck im adam sandler. i have adam sandler powers.

 

i can feel Karkat turning in his cryo-chamber with the cringe of this situation. well, not his body, but his soul. his soul is totally contorting like a solei ballerina right now.

 

… cool.”


	40. Dave (Recorded)

“ Log Date 04.13.2030 - first things first happy birthday my dorkest of friends! we never go 04.13 without making a huge deal out of it so John can feel an inch of the embarrassment he puts us all through in any other social gathering that isn’t his birthday. i would bake a cake but my cooking skills refuse to improve so that i can put anything into a frying pan and not make it come out like a brick or so raw an unassuming soul might even think its the harassed skin of a human being that got thrown into a cat fighting pit. that is mostly why i didnt bake a cake. the other reason is this big kickass mothefucker.

*sound of static*

this stargate-like machine is my most recent masterpiece. it can send any type of matter to any place and any time. turns out that the blue manhatanian ingot that i got was from this me, because that me wasnt all that friends with the guys from chems.

but theyre really nice people...if a tad too into scy-fi.

and its me saying that.

anywho anyhow they gave me a piece of a completely new chemical component that hasnt even been added to the periodic tables across the world. they didnt know how to name it so when i started calling it manhattan they actually dug right in the watchmen joke and now i think at least 3 out of 8 of the crew members that cooked this beauty up are honest-to-god thinking about calling this component Manhattonium.

…

imma busy man, man.

ive got no time to lose. 

im just gonna call this bitch matt.

and so it went, the beautiful tale of a deep friendship between matt and timmy and a matter dislocator that basically became the place were they would always meet.

that is until one day they grew tired of always being apart and matt came up to timmy all like ‘hey i wanna be up in your business’ and timmy was ashamed at the proposition but he couldnt deny that him and matt had chemestry - pun totally intended - so he agreed and then i could send things days, weeks, months back to the past with so much ease that doing it for the first time almost gave my soul orgamisc pleasure, dude. 

thas how good it fucking be.

now, to make things even better - like i havent been doing exactly that for more than thousands of people across this cheek-round globe - the final experiment that i have to perform is to make this jig take me across time and space without a winnabego-like-structure…

i do think that id be able to come back from it with timmy, though.

…

*sound of buttons*

*sound of whirring*

(would i even be able to go that far back?)

*sound of  buttons*

*loud whom*

holy shit i can

…

(i could go back to when… *harsh exhale* holy fuck…)

…

(i cant) the implications would be that id never come to exist at all and if i dont exist as this me than Barzum and Baizli would never be born cause i definetly wouldnt marry Jade if Karkat was alive.

(even if everything else feels off those two… dont)

(...but they are the only things that dont…)


End file.
